Lucky Thirteen
by Cyren
Summary: They are the Thirteen. Warriors in a war unknown to man, unknown to even them, a battle between Heaven and Hell of sorts. With Solomon closing in, is this the end for Amon, Robin, Sakaki, and that ragtag band of witches?
1. Flight

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

_And you don't seem to understand_

_A shame you seemed an honest man_

_And all the fears you hold so dear_

_Will turn to whisper in your ear_

She ran, her legs pumping and driving, hurling her body through the air faster and harder. Her lungs burn, as scorching flame raced through each of her limbs. Her muscles scream in agony, in protest, aching from the exertion, but her heart refused to allow her to stop. The girl ran, flying through the air, cutting into the wind, swallowed up by the inky black of night.

_And you know what they say might hurt you_

_And you know that it means so much_

_But you don't even feel a thing_

The night seemed to croon out to her, calling her name sweetly, seductively, luring her to sleep. The urge to just sit down and rest lingered overhead, looming threateningly. She shook her head fiercely, still rushing down the path. She couldn't stop, couldn't rest. They had to keep moving. But the warm air hung over them like a blanket, refreshing and perfect. The mellow scent of the earth welcomed them. The dark promised safety. Yet, they remained false promises, and they ran on.

_I have fallen_

_I have faded_

_I have lost it all_

How had everything fallen to pieces so quickly? She couldn't imagine it. Everything had happened so fast, a tornado ripping through their lives, destroying all they held dear.

_And you don't seem the lying kind_

_A shame then I can read your mind_

_And all the things that I read there_

_Candle-lit smile that we both share_

She had trusted him, trusted him with her life. She brought him into their world, welcomed him with open arms. The girl even dared to love him, or think she loved him. And he had betrayed them.

_And you know I didn't mean to hurt you_

_And you know that it means so much_

_But you don't even feel a thing_

The callous, cold hearted son of a bitch.

_I have fallen_

_I have faded_

_I have lost it all_

It wouldn't be long now. She could hear him, even now, just a bit down the path behind her, following so very closely. She panted, trying desperately to run faster, to get away from him, to get to safety. But, in truth, there was no safe place anymore. There were only safer places. No place they could truly be at peace anymore. This had been their last hope, and he dashed all that to pieces.

Now, they ran, down the path in the woods. It had been their secret flight route for ages, but somehow, damn him, he knew. He led those bastards straight to them. However, the trail wasn't well marked or made, with the uneven ground of sharp rocks and stray roots. Her foot caught on something, sending her lanky body hurtling to the ground; she shrieked in terror, not expecting anyone to come to her aid.

_I have fallen_

_I have faded_

_I am drowning, help me to breathe_

It was too late anyway; he was upon her already. She looked up, only to stare up the barrel of his gun. His icy eyes gazed down at her, vacant and emotionless, as if nothing was happening at all. Hot tears streamed down her face, screaming out her sorrow.

_I am hurting_

_I have lost it all_

_I am losing, help me to breathe_

"Amon…. Please don't."

-

Song creds: "Duvet" by Boa (aka- theme music to Serial Experiments Lain)


	2. Nocturne

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"No! You can't"

He screamed the words. And for good reason. He hadn't done anything…. Had he? Who in the hell were they to be chasing after him, hunting him. It was all a simple mistake, right? But the symbols, those awful symbols, burnt, blazing in the night.

"You can't possibly do this to me!"

The voice came back from the shadows, sinuous and alluring, but with all the sting and venom of a desert viper. It was a strange thing to note that perhaps the most beautiful, deliciously sinful voice he had ever in his entire life, would probably be the last thing he heard ever, lost in that dark alley.

"Oh, but I've already done it."

-

"So, what's on tomorrow's schedule, boss?"

Michael's inquisitive eyes glanced across the computer console, asking the question just as much with their curious twinkle as his voice. The glittering, gleaming lights seemed to dance across his vision, sparkling in his field of vision. He gazed across the lights, past them, to the figure just on the other side of the console, a woman with soft eyes and shoulder length, brown hair. Miho Karasuma.

She smiled, almost wistfully. "The usual."

The usual. Only two months after the incident of the Factory, the STN-J had been back to "business as usual," but it could never be the same ever again. The events that had transpired on that strange night left gaping rifts in the STN-J. Two, really. For, while Michael, Sakaki, and Doujima all returned to work with Karasuma, Robin and Amon did not. Robin stopped by Raven's Flat only days after that night, to give emergency contact information to Michael, before returning to her refugee-like status. Amon had disappeared entirely, for dead or worse, the untold wrath of Solomon.

And the hunting? It had become completely different without Robin and Amon. Only witches who had actually attacked someone where imprisoned, sedated and tranquilized, locking in a state of suspended slumber. Those who hadn't attacked anyone were required by law to register, or suffer the same fate as those who acted out in a violent manner. It was "more humane." At least, Miho mused, that was the same thing she had said about their previous methods.

"What's the new case like?"

"It's odd," Karasuma breathed, the words barely escaping her lips, as her eyes scanned the file before her. "Seven attacked in five days, all within the confines of the Kabukicho. The last one was only a few hours ago."

Michael nodded. He knew that place well. Kabukicho was the "red-light quarter" of sorts to Shinjuku, a district of western Tokyo. It was filled with cabarets, small restaurants, gaming rooms, dance clubs, and private clubs. All that was in addition to the sex shops and other, less tasteful businesses. Violence in that seedy of a location was common, especially when Yakuza thugs where about, which was every other day. Shinjuku had once been a way station of sorts of Edo travelers, and, with the reputation of the district, particularly Kabukicho, Michael wasn't all that shocked.

"So, how's it on our hands?"

Miho slipped a picture of the last victim across the table. Three symbols, Futhark runes, Michael recognized, had actually been burnt, branded into the victim's arm. Teiwaz, Hagalaz, and Naudhiz. They seemed to glow, even through the photograph.

"I see," Michael noted. "What the hell does it mean?"

Karasuma sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't know. The Rune of Justice. The Rune of Disruption. The Rune of Constraint. All from the old Futhark alphabet and runes system. At least, if my memory serves me right, that's what they should be. But I can't quite be sure; it's been a while."

"You're right," Michael announced, having already pulled up the symbols on his database.

The woman smirked at his quickness to act. "It seems to be some sort of ritualistic markings. I'm not entirely sure at the moment. I've never seen runes actually burnt into a person, into the flesh." She shrugged. "And, from what I understand, there's nothing really out of the ordinary at the seen of the attacks. No leads, no nothing."

"What about the runes?" Michael inquired.

Karasuma shook her head. "The Futhark's common and well known, even though I've never heard of a witch to burn them into a person. It's odd, and really unheard of."

The younger male nodded, scratching at his strawberry-blonde hair. "What about Robin?"

"What?" Miho blurted the word out.

Michael let out a heavy breath. "Robin's got the Arcanum of the Craft, doesn't she?" He waited for his boss to nod. "Maybe she knows something about this." He started reaching, stretching out for that scrap of folded paper, scotch taped about his console. "We could-"

"No." Karasuma sharply caught Michael's wrist with a strong hand.

"But…"

The woman stood, still gripping the hacker's arm. "We can't take that kind of risk. Right now, we're not sure what this witch is capable of, other than scaring the pants off of people and giving slight burns. It's not a problem as of yet. Ok, it's not that big of a problem yet." She allowed his hand to slip from her hold; Michael just sat there in chock for a moment. "We shouldn't worry her like that with something this trivial. That number's for emergency use only."

The man blinked. "Gotcha."

Miho turned to leave, slinking to the door, before turning and giving a wink. "Remember, no calling Robin."

"Ok… what are you going to do?"

She grinned. "I'm heading to the scene of the last attack. See if I can pick anything up. Keep searching. Catch you later, Michael."

-

Kabukichu.

It had taken an hour of driving through the business quarter of Shinjuku to get into Kabukichu. Towers scaling as tall as the eye could see screamed up from the earth, streaking past the little black sedan as Miho cut through the city. Earlier, while the sun was up, businessmen and women would dart this way and that along the sidewalks, rushing between work and perhaps a round of pochenko before heading to Kabukichu at the end of the day. The neon lights blaringly proclaimed the district's presence. There, the men would game, eat, drink, and may haps indulge in some more provocative activities.

Were Miho Karasuma a different person, she might have found the prospects of that curious, interesting at best. But Karasuma didn't play to gossip. Instead, she rather dreaded the thought of having to be in such close contact to that sort of thing. No empathy enjoyed such company. The STN-J agent refused to stray there any longer than she needed to be.

Resolved in this goal, the woman slowed her car to pull over. She wasn't far from Kabukichu, but she didn't really want to drive into that district. The car sedan was probably safer in Shinjuku. Kabukichu remained packed with visitors to all hours of the evening. Miho preferred to just stroll the narrow alleys and streets of the district. Karasuma walked past the shops, strip clubs, and mah-jongg, all the fire hazards.

A careless man bumped into her.

_Damned cheating no good…._

The woman brushed a stray lock back, trying to force down the thought that obviously wasn't hers. That man. Miho didn't want to admit it, but she knew about him, more than just the stray thought. He'd just lost a game, gambling. Karasuma frowned, knowing full well the man should have been glad she couldn't turn him in for illegal gambling.

She stopped in front of the old Liquid Room. The building had once been the home of Tokyo's most famous techno club. The entire exterior had been redone, removing all the remnants of the old club and replacing it with the sleekly gothic motifs. The former techno club had been reset-dressed to look more like an old, medieval castle blended with an old theater, complete with mechanical gargoyles crawling over the façade. Gas lamps burnt brightly in the dark of night. An antique movie house sign called out the name in both English and Japanese. 'Nocturne.' Loud music poured out.

Miho sighed. "The more things change…"

She rounded the building, heading back to where the police investigation was still ongoing in the back alley. The woman ran her hands down the stone-wall of Nocturne, finding nothing. Not a thing.

The entire club was void.

The empathy blinked in surprise. That was completely unheard of. No location, no matter how quiet it was, was psychically devoid. Not like this. No. The very presence of people always left a lingering taint. Nocturne held no feeling. The industrial club felt sterile and clean, as if empty of all life. However, judging by the sounds from inside, that was quite the opposite.

She looked to the investigators gathered, her face pale and wide-eyed.

The acting detective looked down. "You must be from the STN-J."

-

Sorry for the continued short chapters. I promise the next few will be longer.


	3. Descent to Hell

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Good, again."

Robin Sena glared harshly, folding her arms across her chest crossly. Already, her sweat-drenched face had been tanned and burnt from the day's worth of hard work and exercise. Now that night had set in, a cold chill flushed over her. Stray strands of coppery red hair hung, plastered to her face by perspiration from the exertion.

"Isn't it time for dinner?" the girl asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

He came at her again, staff in hand. It took but a heartbeat for Robin to draw up her own, long, wooden quarterstaff to block. The tall man knocked her staff clean out of the smaller girl's hands.

"Not until you start focusing."

The witch bit her upper lip almost impatiently, but drew up the staff again, before circling her attacker, her sensei of sorts. Her emerald eyes followed his every motion, searching for a weakness, but finding none. Robin crouched low, preparing to spring, but her trainer leapt first, dancing towards her in swift fury. The girl barely sidestepped out of the way of his swinging weapon. She tried to lash out, to strike at him, but he was too fast. In an instant, his staff hooked behind the teenager's ankle and swept Robin's legs right out from under her.

She flopped to the earth ungracefully, in a dusty, tired heap, panting heavily. "Lost my focus… again."

"Yes. It was a foolish and critical mistake."

His strong hand helped the girl up from the ground as Robin rubbed the back of her head from where she landed. "I'm sorry." She reached for the staff and held it for a moment, feeling the comforting grain of the wood slip over her skin. "I just can't seem to find my focus tonight." Robin looked up to him. "Can't I just use my Craft?"

He shook his head, tossling his black, almost raven feather hair. "You can't depend on your Craft. We've been over this dozens of times, Robin." He sighed, resigned to repeating the overall lesson for the hundredth time. "It is a dead giveaway that you-"

"Are a witch," Robin finished for him.

The man gave a slight smile. "And a target for Solomon." He took up her staff from out of her hands. "You can never forget that, Robin. You are always being hunted."

"I know, Amon. I know."

-

It was hopeless.

Karasuma had to admit it. The empath had been scouring the alleyway behind the gothic/industrial club Nocturne for close to an hour or two. Still, there was nothing. If it hadn't been for the gentleman she'd bumped into while walking into Kabukichu, Miho could have sworn her gifts were off.

"Miss Karasuma?" the voice spoke softly, tentatively.

The woman rose slowly, feeling her energies uncoiling defensively, until her eyes caught sight of the person speaking. "Sakaki. What are you doing here?"

The hunter shrugged. "I saw your car…"

Miho raised a curious eyebrow. Sakaki lied like a rug. She didn't need to be an empath to tell Haruto's deception. The younger male stood there, in dark, black pants, complete with dozens of straps and buckles dangling from close to every inch of denim. A tight, fishnet shirt hugged his athletic features. Karasuma almost burst out in laughter when her sharp eyes noted the black nail polish on his fingers and the matching eyeliner on his face. This was not the Sakaki she knew from the STN-J. This was an entirely different breed of person.

"Ok," Haruto conceded, seeing the doubt in his partner's face. "So, I like to go out every now and then. No big deal, right?"

Miho smirked at her fellow hunter and gave him a playful jab. "Nope." She beamed, now fully aware of his industrial lifestyle from the slightest of contact. "But you know you'll have hell to pay is Michael or Doujima ever hear about this. I don't think you'll ever be able to live this one down."

He grinned. "I guess that's just the price I have to pay for living so dangerously." The hunter froze, his gaze drifting back to the crime scene and police mulling about. "I heard something like this happened. Figured I'd have to cut my losses and come out to investigate." The man kicked a pebble with his toe. "So, pick anything up?"

"No," the woman responded, almost lamenting the word, still dragging her hand over the cold brick and stone wall. "Have you been here all night?"

Sakaki nodded. "Pretty much since doors."

"See anything unusual?" Miho inquired.

The hunter sighed heavily. "You might want to come inside and see this."

-

"You let me violate you."

Miho cringed at the song lyrics, song in English by some husky, male voice, blaring over the sound system in the club. She tried to ignore the undertones and stick as close to Sakaki's back as humanly possible.

"You let me desecrate you."

Again, Karasuma recoiled. This time, from the reaction of the crowd. They actually seemed to LOVE the song. Their bodies swayed and moved in time with the harsh bass beats. They reveled in the music, black clothes swirling and swishing with their pale bodies. Goths, Miho recalled. This was a goth club. Industrial. These sickening lyrics actually appealed to them.

"You let me penetrate you," the singer continued, to the woman's shock.

"What the hell is this?" Karasuma screamed over the song into Sakaki's ear.

He grinned from ear to ear, a Cheshire Cat smile, with some sort of devilish delight at his boss's apparent suffering. "Nine Inch Nails, Closer."

"You let me complicate you."

Miho sighed heavily but followed as Sakaki led his superior into the club. To enter Nocturne, the actual Nocturne, one first had to pass through Heaven and Purgatory. Heaven was the entrance, a sweeping entryway. To one side, tickets and entry fares were sold. To the other, there were soft, plush couches that Miho didn't care to venture a guess at the sorts of activities that had occurred on them. In the middle of the dingy, darkly lit room, two scantly clad, sprite-like women, dressed as fairies, frolicked and cavorted, twirling glow sticks under the black lights. The fairies danced and twirled in time to thumping music. Purgatory was harsher than Heaven. There, louder, angrier, grittier dance music played. That was where Sakaki had currently led Miho.

She glanced around. Purgatory, just like Heaven, had the heavy post and beam construction of a medieval castle. At least, that's what it looked like under the red lights of the bar. Miho couldn't tell what anything about her looked like in the dark with the bright, fast moving colored lights of the club.

She stiffened, having suddenly noticed the motif over the bar. Hagalaz. The Rune of Discord. It was prominently featured over the ebony bar, carved and burnt into a chunky piece of wood and suspended above the bartender.

The tender must have seen the hunter's awkward, gaping stare as Sakaki continued to drag her across the dance floor towards Hell. The tall, imposing foreigner, with chiseled, almost hawk-like features and piercing blue eyes seemed to glare for a moment, as if asking who in the hell this woman was. The bartender stroked his dark, brown goatee for a moment before pulling back his long, smooth, chocolate colored hair into a tight ponytail. Every muscle on him twinged, as if priming for battle.

Miho almost reeled from the mental shockwave that came out from him, cascading over her in a tsunami of energy. But that wasn't what almost knocked her down. No, the realization that the bartender hadn't unleashed his full potential almost sent Karasuma to the floor.

"Witch," she hissed.

Sakaki nodded slowly. "Yeah. There are a couple of them around here, but they pretty much keep to themselves."

A headache loomed over Karasuma; she massaged her temples. "Except for that."

The younger male put an arm around her, trying to help shoulder her weight a little bit and keep her moving, back and into Hell. "A warning shot, Miss Karasuma." He gave a little stroke of her cheek to reassure the woman at his side. "Nothing more." Sakaki steeled himself in a way his fellow hunter had never seen as he went on. "They know you're investigating the attacks. They know it has something to do with a witch."

"But they don't want anything to do with it," Miho breathed, reaching for her gas gun, still filled with tranquilizers. "Are they registered?"

"Who knows?" Sakaki honestly replied.

Miho lifted her gaze curiously, to meet his. "Then, what are you doing here?"

He blinked. "Miss Karasuma, I thought you knew."

She shook her head.

"I've been working to infiltrate them."

Even then, Miho could taste the lie. Like bile, it washed up the back of her throat, splashed in her mouth and across her mind. How could he? How could Sakaki lie to her? And it was a knowing lie indeed. Haruto was fully aware of his own deception to her.

"Haruto…."

He didn't answer. "C'mon."

A sheet of ice instantaneously spread over Sakaki. How like Amon, the empathy noted. Suddenly, Haruto was the epitome of the man he had emulated for so long. He grew cold, distant, dark, brooding, in a flash. Miho wanted to shrug off his arm, to run away and get as far from Sakaki as she could, but the hunter knew she could not. If Karasuma fled, the others would be upon her, and she'd never get the answers she needed.

Oh yes, there were others.

Miho could see it now far better, especially with the close contact to Haruto, with his opened eyes. There were several of them. Witches, seeds, and everything in between. The bartender in Purgatory, witch. The bouncer, witch. A couple of the dancers, witches. Even some of the club goers, witches. It was a haven.

Karasuma gasped, knowing now what she and Sakaki had stumbled upon, but the man led her on. In no time, they stood before massive, oak doors, carved with demons chasing and torturing angels, turning them into demons and starting the cycle over again. The bouncer eyed the two of them warily for a moment, as if trying to guess their age. Sakaki presented an id, followed quickly by Karasuma's. The bouncer nodded before handing the id's back and turning to open the door.

He spared a quick glance in Miho's direction with those dark, almost grape eyes. The nineteen-year old softened for a moment. "Take a deep breath, Miss Karasuma. You're going to need it."

The doors threw open and Karasuma drew in a sharp breath.

Teiwaz. Hagalax. Naudhiz.

The runes! There they were, painted in dark red letters over the stage, as if smearing in blood itself. Karasuma instantly felt sick, upon noticing the darker, almost brown look, and the way it seemed to glow under the black lights. It was blood.

Her feet burnt. The woman jumped and looked down, only to spy the Futhark rune Isa on the floor. The Rune of Inertia, of ice. It was a freezing rune, marking the club in the same blood as the runes behind the stage. The Rune of Ice. It must have been what stopped the psychic energy from reaching Karasuma, making the entire club feel devoid of any energy. But, what of the bartender, of the witches Karasuma could definitely feel?

Looking back on it, she hadn't even felt Sakaki approach. Normally, she could pick Haruto's presence out of a crowd, even if it had been hours before.

Something was wrong.

"Sakaki…."

He ushered her to the side, into a dark corner, away from the writhing, swirling masses of dancing Goths and rivetheads. It was a good thing, too, for, even as Haruto did, he could see the empathy on the verge of passing out. The young man propped his partner against the wall under a vent and fanned cool air onto her.

"Miss Karasuma! Miss Karasuma!"

Miho blinked back the bleariness to her vision, "Get me out of here, now!"

Sakaki didn't waste anytime in helping shoulder her weight back out of the club, through the massive gate to Hell, through Purgatory and past the bar, through Heaven, and out, into the chilling night. Karasuma shivered as she passed through the last door, having noticed the rune Algiz carved into the marble steps to Heaven. The Rune of Protection.

Her male counterpart eased her down to sit on the steps; she rolled her eyes to meet his worried gaze. "What kind of a place is this?"

"I thought you knew," he spoke the words slowly, unsurely.

The woman gave a wave of her hand. "Just tell me."

Sakaki closed his eyes slowly. "It's a sanctuary."

"… for witches."

-

Ok… so victims of witches… next to a sanctuary of witches. And what exactly is Sakaki's secret? I'll keep you posted. Again, sorry for the short chapters. Been writing and going to class.


	4. Deception

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Sakaki…"

Miho Karasuma couldn't believe the words coming from her supposed partner's mouth. A sanctuary for witches. The startled hunter before her had knowing led her into a haven of witches. The woman felt sick, violently ill at the thoughts of his deception. How could Haruto know about this place and not tell her, especially with all the attacks? How could he lead her into that den of wolves? She couldn't breath.

"Is she ok?" one of the burly looking bouncers inquired.

Sakaki's face warmed as he put on a casual, but smooth smile. "It's nothing. Just a simple asthma attack."

"Does she need an ambulance?"

The hunter shook his head; his hand rubbed her back reassuringly, feigning trying to stimulate respiration. "It's just a small attack; no big deal. It'll pass in no time."

The bouncer gave a slight shrug before returning to his work at the door, standing there imposingly to create a "presence of authority." The crowd gathered continued along with entering Nocturne, pausing to give the "asthmatic" woman a quick, curious glance and that regard alone. Sakaki let loose a sigh of relief, relaxing for a moment before returning his gaze to the woman seated on the steps beside him.

"C'mon, Miss Karasuma," he said the words slowly, carefully, as if talking to a child. "I'll take you back home."

Bitterly, angrily, Miho swatted back her partner's hand as Sakaki reached to help her up. The woman gritted her teeth, biting her tongue and ignoring the flush of concerned thoughts that jumped alive in her mind from that slight contact. The man stepped back, a mix of hurt and confused by her sudden ferocity and anger. Miho, however, refused to lift her chocolate eyes. Instead, the hunter stared at the concrete before her, following the scraps and scuff marks of sneakers amid blobs of chewed gum. Karasuma couldn't look him in the eyes, couldn't acknowledge his concern. No. She had to be strong. This was Sakaki, her friend, but he had betrayed her. Miho couldn't give in.

"Don't touch me," the woman snarled, her voice but a soft, bass growl.

Haruto blinked, shocked by her anger. "Miss Kara-"

The empath raised a hand, cutting him short. "Don't. Don't you dare." Slowly, Karasuma stood, dusting off her coat and composing herself. "I'm leaving."

"But I-" Sakaki swallowed the lump in his throat. "I have to talk to you…. Please…"

"No."

Karasuma turned on her heel smartly, with an almost cheery clip of her shoe. She cocked her head to one side, forcing on and awkward smile, more of a grimace really. The hunter strode down the stairs, holding her head high and proudly, as if to tell Sakaki off by body language alone. The woman prayed her partner would know from the obvious signs she didn't want to talk.

Sakaki didn't take the hint as well as she'd hoped; only three steps away, Haruto grabbed her elbow fiercely.

'_She can't. She's can't leave. She can't tell. It'll ruin us all.'_

The empath blinked at the unbidden thought that burst up in her mind, a bubble surfacing the otherwise still pond of her consciousness. It bore the distinctive taste of the man who held her arm so tightly. It caught the woman off guard, to say the least. The woman stood there, staring into his dark eyes searchingly, even as passers-by bumped into her roughly.

"You're hurting me," Karasuma whimpered when Sakaki squeezed too hard.

The woman tore her arm from his hold, but she could not free her eyes from his unsure gaze. The whole world seemed to spin and reel around them, but move incredibly slowly, like through a viscous liquid. Karasuma couldn't do it; she couldn't scry into Haruto. However, the empathy didn't need to. It was written on every single one of his features. In his soft eyes and boyish face, Haruto screamed concern, worry, fear, terror, and paranoia. Paranoia of Miho.

"I have to go…."

'_Miss Karasuma…'_

Sakaki just gave a slight nod of his head and stepped back. He couldn't keep her there. No one could. All the nineteen-year old could do was wait and watch as Miho Karasuma ran from him, from Nocturne, leaving only the faint echoing of her high-heeled shoes. That too, was quickly swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of Kabukichu.

She ran from him.

And, suddenly, somehow, amid all those people, Haruto Sakaki never felt so utterly and appallingly alone.

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders in dejection before turning back to Nocturne. The club never seemed so welcoming than in that moment. There, in that sanctuary, the man could lose himself in the midst of the swirling dancers and loud music. Sakaki retreated to the darkness of the club and the angry industrial music, but found no solace and comfort. The hunter retired to the bar of Purgatory, to sit under the sign of Hagalaz and stew.

A shot appeared before him, slid across the counter by the tender.

"What's this?" Haruto asked, without looking up.

The bartender smirked slyly. "Doesn't matter. It'll still cure whatever ails you." He laughed to himself. "Or eat the inner lining off your stomach."

Even Sakaki had to chuckle at that one. "Too young to drink. You know that."

"Nah. Never too young." The tender took a rag and started to wipe down the bar. "Just slightly inexperienced with it." The man stood back and tossed the dirty scrap of washcloth aside, raising his own shot to Haruto. "C'mon, drink up, boy. It'll help you feel better or far worse. Trust me."

Sakaki swigged back the shot, obviously a biting vodka, and slammed the glass back down on the wooden counter. "Thanks, Geoff."

He looked over to the man. Geoff. He was a foreigner, like most the people working Nocturne. Geoff had come from the far-flung land of America, from Georgia, specifically, along with the other owners of the club. He stood tall, on a muscular body. Long locks of chocolate hair framed his chiseled face. Softer, blue eyes, sky blue to be exact, seemed to study the entire world almost constantly from his pale face.

"So, who was your lady friend?"

Sakaki sniffed. "My partner. She's a hunter from the STN."

Geoff leaned close over the bar. "Does she know?"

"I don't think so."

xxxx

"Staying awake for a bit?"

Robin finally looked up from her book. Amon stood in the doorway between the living room and the hall to the bedrooms. The former man looked calm but still tense, permanently primed for action and intrusion. His feet were bare, but the man's muddied shoes sat just at the door. He'd just come from checking the perimeter.

"I suppose. Going to sleep?" Robin inquired.

Amon nodded. "Yes."

The teenager smiled. While Amon said he was going to sleep, the hunter would probably sleep less than three hours the whole night. He'd be up every hour on the hour to check the perimeter and the house before returning to sleep. The former hunter's sleep wasn't restful, either. It was fraught with nightmares and terrors. Amon slept so very lightly that a mouse would wake him. Robin supposed it was a good thing.

"Good night, Amon. Sleep well." The man turned to leave, but Robin stopped him. "Amon." He stood in place. "Amon…. Do you ever think of the others? Of Karasuma, and Michael, and Doujima or Sakaki?"

The man froze. "At times. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Robin answered honestly. "I just, I have a bad feeling. I'm worried about them."

"I'm sure they're fine."

The girl returned to her book. "You're right."

"Good night, Robin."

xxxx

Hot tears streamed down Miho's cheeks, escaping without her permission.

She wiped the salty drops away harshly, but the questions and lingering doubt remained over her as a skulking shadow. Was it true? Had Haruto betrayed the STN-J in favor of witches? Or was there something deeper at work? It didn't matter. He had lied to her, pulled Karasuma into a witches' den.

The hunter ran despite her high heels until she reached her car, never stopping in a flurry of motion to unlock her doors, jump inside, and lock them behind her.

There, she rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

Her tears had subsided, for now. The empath knew they were not hers. No. They came from Sakaki. Only, coupled with her own fears and anxieties, they came spilling out. The emotion was Haruto's. The action remained Karasuma's.

Slowly, deliberately, Karasuma took her phone from a deep coat pocket and dialed.

After an agonizing minute, Michaels' chipper voice responded. "Miss Karasuma? How did the investigation go in Kabukichu?"

"Michael, I need you to put a trace on Sakaki's cell. I need to know where he is at all times and what he's doing." The woman paused, forcing down the bitterness in her throat, becoming precise and businesslike. "If possible, I need taps on all his phone conversations."

"On Sakaki?"

Miho nodded to herself. "Just do it, Michael."

There was a tense moment where neither spoke.

"Alright, Miss Karasuma."

She gazed out her windshield, at the glaring, neon lights of Kabukichu, at Nocturne's faint, blue haze in the distance. "And Michael?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"Don't say a word of this to him," the hunter ordered.

"Gotcha."

xxxx

Miho Karaasuma couldn't have known.

No one would have ever known.

Especially in the state of mind Karasuma had been in while running from Nocturne, no one could have ever noticed.

As the female hunter ran down the streets, darting from place to place to her car, a form detached itself from the crowd. A form in dark clothes. The person followed closely, keeping pace with the hunter, all the way out of Kabukichu and into the rest of Shinjuku. It moved stealthily, shifting this way and that, skulking among what few shadows there were among those blaring, neon lights. It moved silently, smoothly, with all the grace and care of a cat, hunting and stalking its prey.

For the moment, it merely followed, studying and learning.

Miho sped off in her car, back towards the STN-J.

xxxx

Sorry for the short chapters, still. Darn you, Zurizip for pointing out that Sakaki's grown a bit… different since before the Factory. Just sit back and watch. All will be explained, I promise.


	5. Mind Meet

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Good morning, Miss Karasuma."

Michaeal Lee's cheery voice called out to her brightly, but the woman hated it. How could the hacker be so happy, so perky, after everything that had happened? Although, Miho had to admit, Michael had no idea what had happened. It wasn't his fault. No, the fault was Sakaki's, and his alone.

She sighed, exhausted. "Morning."

"You sound tired, Miss Karasuma," the hacker noted.

Miho shrugged. "Understatement of the century."

Michael glanced over to the clock. 5:31. He looked out the windows, only to see that the sun had yet to rise. Karasuma had arrived more than three hours early. Not only that. Now that the hacker had begun to take stock of the situation, he saw the bags under his boss's eyes and the fact that she had yet to change clothes.

"You come right from the crime scene?" Michael asked the words curiously.

Karasuma shook her head, almost sadly and mournfully. "No." The hacker raised an eyebrow at that, to which Miho had to explain. "I've just been driving around for a while."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Why don't you head home, then?" Michael offered.

Karasuma shook her head. "No. I don't think I could sleep if I went home." She paused, mulling over the evening's events. "How about Sakaki? Did you get that trace I asked for?"

"Yes, but I still don't understand why."

The woman closed her eyes. "Please, Michael. Please just trust me on this one."

Michael peered into his computer, at the files before him. Somehow, the hacker didn't want to tell Karasuma. It felt like betrayal to tell her where Sakaki had been all night. Still, the man had to admit, if the empath felt so strongly about something, Michael had to trust her. Miho had never shown him any reason, even the slightest of reasons not to put his complete and total faith in Karasuma.

The hacker shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "Alright. I believe in you."

"Good." Miho gave a small nod. "Where is he?"

Michael pulled up a file from the background of his desktop. "Still in Kabukichu. Looks like in that new club."

"Nocturne," Karasuma replied almost sorrowfully.

Lee nodded. "Yeah." He rushed to the internet browser to pull up the club's website. "They closed two hours ago. What is he still doing there?"

"I don't know."

xxxx

"_Miss Karasuma. I'm sorry."_

_A gun was raised, pointed right at his head. _

"_Please… don't."_

xxxx

"Robin…"

She jumped awake and blinked, trying to wake up from the nightmare.

Amon stood over her. "You fell asleep while reading." He spoke so matter-of-factly, but it wasn't a surprise. "You were having a nightmare."

The girl ran her fingers through her tangled, red hair. Her book, a tattered copy of The Two Towers lay sprawled over her lap. Robin looked to the long row of windows to her left. The sun hadn't risen yet. Amon must have awoken to walk the perimeter of the property and found her nestled in the armchair with her book, fast asleep, lost in the darkness of her nightmares.

Robin stretched. "I'm worried."

"And?" the former hunter inquired as he strode from the living room into the kitchen, to return to cleaning his guns, almost bidding Robin to follow and explain herself.

The teenage girl mused, "I hope everything's alright at the STN."

xxxx

They were gathering.

All of them.

They came out of the woodwork, literally.

At 2:30, the bar held last call. Sakaki sat and watched as it happened. A group of them, of the foreigners, all appeared behind the bar, laughing and joking, exhausted from the night's work. The music was dimmed greatly as the owners/operators of Nocturne all clamored behind the bar of Purgatory. The girls of the group, having shucked off their fairy wings from their games in Heaven, climbed atop the wooden counter, clapping, dancing, and teasing one another. Geoff took to ringing the call bell, drawing all eyes in Purgatory to the bar, to the girls standing before the Hagalaz marker.

All at once, they raised their voices. "LAST CALL!"

It took only fifteen minutes of rush at the bar before the crowd died down and the club goers started to steadily file out of Nocturne at their own pace. The girls, both red headed lasses, helped Geoff by taking money for orders as he and the other tenders filled them. They worked as a team, like a well-oiled machine. By 3:00 AM, it was finally time for the doors to close.

The girls, still laughing and horsing around atop the bar shouted out, over the lingering crowd, "The night is done; the sun is near. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here! Now goodnight and get the hell out!"

Sakaki smiled to himself as the pair jumped down from the counter once the club started to empty out fully. In no time, they were the only ones in the club. They took to cleaning the club. The two girls swept, chasing each other about while working. The men were hauling trash and crates of used glasses to load into the washing machines. Sakaki eventually reached over the bar, took a rag, and started to polish off the sticky counter. By 5:30, the work was done and the group who worked the club had settled down at a few of the tables in Purgatory.

Sakaki returned to the bar, waiting as Geoff called over a few of the others.

They separated themselves from the others and stepped forward, all taking stools at the bar. All except for the two red heads. They immediately climbed to sit on the bar itself and help one another take out their extreme hair-dos. They reminded the hunter of chimps, grooming each other as the pair pulled bobby pins and ties from each other's flame red hair.

"Alright kiddies, let's get started," Geoff announced, to those who stepped forward; Sakaki could tell the bartender was stalling. "Business was good tonight. Any problems?"

One of the fairies swung around lightning fast. "Except for being groped a couple of times, whacking some dude who got too close with one of my poi, and a couple of other random mishaps?"

Geoff snickered. "Other than that?"

The group fell awkwardly silent. The entire collection of foreigners, along with Sakaki, knew exactly what the bartender was fishing for. Geoff spoke of one, major problem. Or, really, two problems. The first, was the attack. The bartender obviously searched for answers, for some sort of explanation for the incident in their own backyard. And, judging by the eerie quiet of the usually loud crew, they knew something. They were just reluctant to own up to the terrible mistake.

"Any news, Sakaki?" one of the fairies inquired, the taller and skinnier of the two.

The hunter shrugged. "Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Pluses and minuses! Always fun!" the other fairy cried out in delight, slapping her hand down on the counter. "How 'bout the bad news first so the good news seems so much better!"

"Ah, optimism," one of the males, a tall gent with short, black hair teased. "Thanks, Nycole."

The fairy, Nycole, giggled before calming under the stern gaze of Geoff; the bartender let out a sigh. "Yes, thanks for the startling insight." He turned to the hunter seated at the bar and raised a hand to him, gesturing for the hunter to continue. "Now, Sakakai, as you were going to say…"

"The attack has been linked to Nocturne," Haruto admitted.

The man with the short, ebony hair, cut in almost an "emo-hair" cut frowned. "And who's fault would that be."

The hunter closed his eyes. "My fault, Brett." Sakaki looked up to Geoff. "I just thought maybe it would help if Miss Karasuma just _knew_ about all this. I figured it would make things easier if we just admitted everything to her." There was much rolling of eyeballs at that statement, like a collective wave. "Aw, c'mon. I thought she could help."

The other fairy leaning in close, whispering into Sakaki's ear in a frail voice, "No one can help us."

xxxx

"He's been at Nocturne all night, Miss Karasuma. What's so important about that place?"

Karasuma dolefully rubbed her arms, trying to wipe off the disgusting taint the entire night's events had left upon her. "It's a haven, Michael." The woman paced uneasily, a caged lioness stalking and prowling about Raven's Flat. "It's a haven for witches." Karasuma watched out the window as the sun arose in the distance, lighting the sky with a warm, rosy pink. "And Sakaki took me in there." She blinked, feeling her heart fall. "The attacks are DIRECTLY linked to this club. I know it. Those runes where there, all over the place, all over the bar."

"Miss Karasuma…" Michael finally looked up from his computer. "Are you so sure? I mean, this is Sakaki we're talking about."

"Sakaki is lying," the empath growled. "He is not the friend we used to know."

The hacker shook his head. "I see. You scried him?"

The woman plopped down in to a chair. "Not purposefully. I… I just know." She smirked slyly. "Call it a woman's intuition."

"You think he's betrayed us."

Doujima's cheerful voice piped up from the doorway, startling both the hacker and the hunter. "Good morning you two." She gave a flip of her blonde hair before sitting on the edge of the desk. "So, betrayal?"

"How long have you been standing there?" Miho loathed whatever answer Doujima would give.

The blonde toyed with her hair, spinning it around a finger. "Long enough to know far too much." Doujima subconsciously stuffed her hands in her pockets. "So, what exactly are we going to do about Sakaki?"

Miho reached out a slender hand, taking up the note that had been taped to the computer console for close to a year now. For an entire year, none of the hunters had ever felt the need to take that piece of paper. Even Karasuma felt it a sin to even contemplate that route of action. The scrap of paper felt so heavy in her hand, almost dreadfully so.

"Are you such about this, Miss Karasuma?" Michael asked hesitantly.

"We have no other choice."

xxxx

Yeah, sorry about the "empath"/"empathy" thing, **FyodorD**. This copy of MS Word keeps changing it on me on auto, even after the beta-ed version comes back. I need to change the preferences on it, I think. But it's not my computer.

Pokes **Zurizip **so you fidget more.


	6. Final Arrangements

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

The day had come.

Sakaki grudgingly walked down the long line of gates around Raven's Flat. Somewhere, one of birds crowed loudly, harshly. The hunter jumped at the sound, but settled quickly. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pale green jacket and kicked a pebble down the sidewalk.

Miss Karasuma and the Chief would be pissed. An hour late. Still, after everything had been said and done, after all the plans had been made, Sakaki had to lose the goth/industrial look. The man had to admit it, but Karasuma was right about never being able to live it down. Doujima would tease and taunt Haruto for even showing up in anything industrial. That, and the look had only started for Sakaki once everything else began.

He yawned big. Sakaki hoped the Chief and Karasuma wouldn't have anything planned for the day. After telling Geoff what had happened, Sakaki had to sit through long lectures of protocol before the entire group made some breakfast and continued talks and planning until long after dawn. Bags hung under his eyes, dark little ringlets showing the man's blatant exhaustion. Sakaki prayed he could catch some sleep in the office, maybe even an hour or two.

Even the elevator seemed tired and slow to Haruto, dragging on.

Finally, the elevator stopped at the office floor, letting Haruto off. The hunter folded his arms over his head, resting his wrists on the top of his head. Michael gave him a slight wave without looking up from his computer. Haruto smiled but continued on to his desk, to plop down in the swivel chair and prop his legs on the desk.

He cracked open an eye to look at the others and see what was going on and assess the possibilities of sleep. Doujima sat by Michael, her head buried in a trashy romance novel. Michael typed away furiously at his keyboard.

And Karasuma?

Karasuma sat at her desk, her head buried in files. Every few moments, however, the empath kept glancing up at Sakaki, worry in her eyes. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on the woman's forehead. She was afraid, afraid of Sakaki. Soon, Karasuma just rose and left, walking as fast as she could.

'_She knows.'_

Sakaki took his cell phone and started dialing.

xxxx

"Concentrate!"

Robin flopped to the ground, writhing under Amon's hold. His long, strong arms wrapped around her, holding the teenage girl, but not painfully so. The former hunter pinned the girl down to the soft, mellow earth. She had lost another round.

"Are you ready to start focusing?"

The girl gritted her teeth. "Apparently not."

Amon gave a slight chuckle, the first time Robin had actually heard anything resembling a laugh escape the man's lips in ages, if ever. It even brought a smile to the tired girl's face, suddenly reassured by the light heartedness in her partner. He slipped from above her and let the girl up.

"What has you in such a pleasantly strict mood?" Robin asked, wiping the dirt from her pale face.

Amon gave a coy grin. "We're going back to work tonight."

xxxx

The phone never rang at Nocturne during the day.

Not ever.

The dance hall, bar, and club were empty. They'd been empty for hours. The phone's incessant ring echoed and reverberated along the wooden rafters of Purgatory, further illustrating the point. The barren hall that had once been filled the night before with the hustle and bustle of the Tokyo industrial underground lay abandoned in the daylight. Only the mournful ringing of the phone traversed the wooden dance floors.

It rang on and on.

Somewhere, in the loft above the club, a person moaned, groaning as they rolled over the silence the ringing phone.

One of the fairies, dancers from Heaven, rolled out of her bed and onto bare feet. The night had been long and hard. Day was not meant for waking; day was meant for sleeping. Blearily, the girl trudged from her bed across the floor of the loft to the phone, and took it up from the cradle.

She answered groggily. "If you don't want to die, make it good."

Sakaki's voice answered. "Kathain, we've got problems. Wake everyone up."

"What?" the girl asked in return, startled by the hunter's urgency.

"Just do it."

xxxx

"Sakaki…"

Robin couldn't believe the words coming out of Amon's mouth. But, with the way the man stood over the kitchen table, over his guns, the girl had to believe him. Amon had grown quiet, very businesslike and professional, cleaning his guns and loading clips. He was an assassin, a samurai charged with killing his own friend. He was the essence of the warrior, carrying out a plan that would otherwise seem as betrayal, but a necessary one. Robin drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Amon's Orbo bullets, the last of their kind. The man meant business.

"Amon, those are... witch killing bullets." She whispered the words sadly; the girl wondered what would become of Sakaki after the end of this. "Amon, what are you planning to do to him?"

The hunter slid a fresh clip of Orbo bullets into his gas gun and checked it carefully. "That will depend entirely on what he does."

"But, it's Sakaki," Robin argued, placing a hand on his wrist.

The hunter looked up at her suddenly, no emotion in his eyes or features at all, just perfect, machine-like drive. "Robin." Her hand fell away. "If he has done what Karasuma says, if Sakaki has betrayed the STN, this is not the Sakaki we knew. We do not know what he is capable of." The girl blinked, but Amon just set the gun in its holster. "I understand you still consider Sakaki a friend. You may stay here if you wish."

Robin placed her glasses on her face. "I'd rather be there. I need to see for myself."

xxxx

Nocturne lay still.

Sakaki jumped up and down, trying to peer into the windows. The dance floor was still and empty. Not a soul stirred in the club. The hunter pounded on the door, drumming on the hard wood with a frustrated blow.

"C'mon!" Sakaki's phone rang in his pocket; he answered swiftly. "God, Geoff!"

"Back door."

xxxx

"He's on the phone with someone named Geoff."

Karasuma nodded, watching from where she sat in the black sedan as the man in the green coat ran around to the back of the club down a side alley. She had already known where Sakaki was heading, even without Michael's trace. The empath didn't need the hacker's bug to figure out exactly where Sakaki would go. It was common sense at this point. She only wanted to know for certain.

She squeezed her cell phone harder. "Thank-you, Michael."

"He sounded hurried, frightened even," the hacker noted.

Karasuma's hand lingered over her gas gun, fingering the cool metal of pistol. "I know."

"What are you going to do?" the man on the other end of the phone inquired.

"What for backup."

xxxx

It took a few moments to wake everyone up, but, soon, they were gathering.

Sakaki had never been invited into the loft above Nocturne. Now, standing in the massive apartment over the club, he could see why the group had chosen this place to set up their main home. He knew this was just as temporary as anything else had been for them, but this felt like home. Even to the wary hunter, the loft felt comforting. It was sparsely decorated with a few, Asian accents, such as a bamboo plant here, a fountain there. Tall windows allowed light to pour in.

They stumbled from bedrooms only to sprawl out on the few, strangely cream colored couches. Sakaki watched them.

The first out where Nycole and Kathain, giggling like school girls. They were the fairies. They spent their nights in the club performing strange stage acts, generally involving some sort of skill toy like poi or glowsticks. The two redheads were like twin systems, with sparkling blue eyes. However, Kathain was slighter taller and thinner, so scrawny that her bones seemed to stick out unnaturally under her red tank top and flannel pajamas. Her red hair was darker, with a coppery tint, longer, thicker, and curlier. It cascaded about halfway down her back like liquid fire, in large waves.

Nycole, not far behind, being that they shared a room, had slightly more rounded features, befitting her Irish-Scottish heritage. Her hair was shorter and straight, a brighter red like Mary Jane Watson. She smirked and giggled as the pair plopped onto the sofa.

Then, there were the gents, Geoff, Brett, and Kristo.

Brett was the middle sized of the three. He worked as a bouncer and bartender from time to time in Nocturne. His hair remained unnaturally ebony, without dye of any form. It was long for him. A thin beard of scruff had formed from going a few days without shaving. His eyes shone in greenish-blue, but sometimes, just sometimes, when the light was just right, they changed.

And, there was Kristo. He walked on a shorter, built frame, with long, straight locks of black hair, black as midnight, and sharp, blue eyes. The man had instinctively drawn his katana upon hearing the news, carrying the handmade weapon. Sakaki cringed, knowing the man had probably hidden far more firearms on his person, tucked away in his coat somewhere.

"You getting ready for battle, Kristo?" Kathain joked.

"It's war already, isn't it Sakaki?"

The hunter sighed. "Yes."

xxxx

Check it out- Robin and Amon are back in the swing of things. But what does this mean for Sakaki and that ragtag band at Nocturne? Secrets, secrets, secrets. Sorry, but I'm apparently REALLY mean to my audience.


	7. Skulk

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

The day dragged on and on. Minutes drew into hours, and long hours blurred into what felt like days. The longer they strayed there, the harder it became. They just meandered about, wandering the dark, lonely halls of Nocturne, awaiting their destiny.

It was hard, just sitting there, waiting for the STN-J just to pounce on them. At any moment, an assault team from Solomon could come crashing through the front doors, armed and ready to take on the band of witches. For all they knew, the hunters could already be staking out sniper points along the buildings around Nocturne. The mere thought of their uncertain fate made the entire band uneasy at best.

Eventually, in the afternoon, the group decided it would be best to sleep, under the counsel of Kathain. However, none dared return to the lost upstairs. They took to the club, gathering around the bar and hall of Purgatory. Safety in numbers. They took shifts.

Kathain stalked across the dance floor, carried a fleece blanket with care as she tiptoed towards the couches along the far side of the club. She gave a slight nod to Brett as he paced anxiously, itching for the impending battle to just happen and be done with. The girl had to sympathize. She knew whatever would happen that night would be terrible; in fact, Kathain knew better than anyone else. Still, this didn't mean the girl savored this awful waiting game.

Brett made a subtle wave and continued with his pacing.

Kathain shrugged and strode over to the couches.

Nycole sat over Sakaki as the hunter tried to get some sleep, if any. The man tossed and turned fitfully. The redhead brushed her hand over his forehead tenderly, trying to calm him. She looked up just as Kathain gently placed the blanket over the hunter. Haruto's eyes slipped open, looking up and at Kathain.

"How you doing, Sakaki?" she inquired softly, gently.

The man let out a heavy breath. "Can't sleep."

"Want me to help?" Nycole offered.

Sakaki turned on his side under the blanket, burrowing his head into the pillow. "I'm good."

Kathain smiled at her closest friend. "Let him rest. He needs it of his own accord." The girl pulled the edge of the fleece blanket up to Sakaki's neck. "We'll all need it." She rested a knowing gaze upon Nycole. "You should get some sleep, too."

"What have you seen?" the other fairy asked, gingerly tiptoeing around the subject.

"Nothing."

xxxx

Miho Karasuma sat in her car, just down the road from the dark and empty club Nocturne. The hunter's gas gun rested lightly in her lap, loaded and ready for whatever would happen that night.

The sun was setting already, sinking in the distance. The sky burnt a hideous red stain, like blood. A bad omen to say the least. Miho felt her heart sink with the sun as it set. She prayed that the scarlet sky would just fade away, that it wasn't a sign of ill fortune. The empath whispered her prayers.

"Strange night," Doujima finally broke the silence of the stakeout. "You think it's going to be bad?"

Karasuma checked her gas gun for the hundredth time. "I know it's going to be bad."

xxxx

Nocturne opened as if nothing was happening.

The doors swung wide at 10:00 p.m. sharp, just as they had every night since the night club's inception. Nothing was out of the ordinary or out of place. Everything was as it should have been. This was despite the obvious danger of a Solomon assault team arriving. Still, Sakaki knew no assault team would arrive once the doors had opened and thousands of Goths and rivetheads had poured in to dance and revel in the night. Even the mighty Solomon couldn't chance that sort of a media explosion. They were safer then than the club had ever been from Solomon or the STN.

Besides, Nocturne remained as it always had been. A sanctuary. It could not close. Not as long as the group remained true to one another. Nocturne's doors were open to both the Goths of Tokyo and any witches who needed a safe haven to hide, especially from the STN-J.

Precautions, however, were taken.

Nycole and Kathain stayed close to one another, this time in the far back reaches of Purgatory, where Brett could keep an eye on them while the pair performed. As he handed them their toys for the evening, which seemed but long chains, Brett hugged each of the fairies.

"Be careful, you two."

xxxx

Robin drew a deep breath.

It had taken little to no effort to find Nocturne. Now, she and Amon stood in the long line of black clad individuals. Robin whispered a silent prayer that his gas gun and the witch killing bullets would not be found. She glanced around her nervously at the unusually dressed people around her, in black, leather, and studded clothes. Robin thanked whatever god had given her and Amon their distinct taste in clothes with their black coats and her long dress. While their dress was notably different, they could fit in easily.

"Where's Karasuma?" the teenager asked.

Amon didn't even look over his shoulder at the girl practically huddling at his back. "I'm not sure yet."

The young witch bit her lip nervously, but continued on, all the while almost pressed into the former hunter's muscular back. The craft user looked like she was trying to bury herself there, wedged between his shoulder blades. Amon seemed like he was trying to ignore it, to ignore her. He just walked up and into Heaven, into the blue lights of that almost serene hall, and to the ticket counter to buy their entry.

"Two please."

xxxx

Brett sat back and watched.

He kept sharp, eagle eyes on the crowd of Hell, that innermost sanctum of Nocturne. The dancers swayed and bobbed, in time with the music. Brett, however, kept to the outskirts. He glanced this way and that, keeping an eye out for anything unusual.

At first, while the music played, there was nothing.

Then, something caught his eye.

A girl, about halfway across the dance floor in Purgatory. She couldn't have been much older than 16 or 17. Long strands of strawberry blonde to red hair hung from two odd knots on each side of her head. Emerald eyes gazed the crowd just as curiously and keenly as Brett's slate blue eyes. That pale girl, in her demure, long black dress and coat, seemed so out of place. Her innocence screamed from every single one of her features. She moved about nervously, as if scared and unsure of herself, looking this way and that. The stranger somewhat reminded him of a frightened, caged bird.

She turned to her companion and said something Brett couldn't dream of hearing over the loud music.

Brett's eyes went wide when he saw the stranger at the girl's side. The man stood tall and proud, ramrod straight. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, but the man's face told a different story. This man had lived a hard, long life in his short years. He moved about gracefully and surely, almost cockily. This newcomer walked about the dance hall as if he owned the place.

Brett turned to Kristo at the entrance to Hell.

"Let them enter."

Then, Brett spun around, disappearing into the deepest part of Nocturne, into Hell itself.

xxxx

"Amon!"

He turned to face her and shouted back. "What is it?"

"There are witches, all over here," the girl pointed out.

The former hunter gave a slight nod. Robin was right. He could feel it in every inch and fiber of his body. Witches and craft users were about, along with seeds and other less savory individuals. They were outnumbered. Even with the witch killing bullets, Amon had to admit they were probably outgunned, too. Their plans had to change right then and there. He couldn't take the chance of inciting a battle, especially with all the innocent, normal human beings who had just gone for a night of dancing and partying at Nocturne.

"Finish the survey," he instructed confidently, trying to keep Robin calm. Amon gestured to the giant entryway to Hell. "Shall we?"

Robin nodded and steeled herself, but followed close at her partner's side. They slid through the crowd easily. Amon fingered the fake id cards in his pocket, hoping they would be sufficient. His skill and detail were good, but not perfect. They didn't need them. The bouncer with long, ebony hair, just waved them through with a devilish grin.

The girl flinched slightly but kept walking in, into Hell. The dark of the hall sucked her in, but not as much as what she saw. Under the dim lights, the crowd danced and played, but all eyes were up and on the stage. There, two lithe girls with red hair spun and twirled. They whipped about long chains with slight balls of fire on the ends in an intricate sort of ballet. The pair wore matching corsets in a steely black, adorned with white, embroidered griffins and similarly colored black skirts. They moved atop bulky, buckled covered, leather boots and legs clad in fishnet stockings. The pair were seductive, strange, and, yet, fitting.

But that wasn't what had drawn Robin's eyes. She looked behind the performers. Each elegant, diving sweep of the fireballs illuminated the blood marks behind the girls. Teiwaz. Hagalaz. Naudhiz.

It was a warning and curse.

Dare to breach the trust of the sanctuary, and terrible consequences would befall you.

Robin tugged on the elbow of Amon's coat. "We shouldn't be here."

Just as she said that, her eyes went wide. A wave of energy snaked over the crowd, towards the girls on stage. It curled over the partygoers, unnoticed and unseen, visible to Robin alone. The Craft user drew in a sharp breath at the sight of it. Someone's craft, someone's element rushed up to the girls. As the coil hit the chains, fire suddenly flared up, rushing up the lengths of the chains and sending sparks flashing across with snaps and pops. A fire elemental skulked about, somewhere in the shadows.

Robin turned to the source of the energy.

There stood one of the bouncers, in a long, black, floor length coat. Small, square framed glasses rested on his nose, Slate blue eyes studied her in sadistic delight at her terror, from under mussed, short, ebony hair. This was the source of the fire. A fire elemental.

"Amon…."

The former hunter furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

Robin lifted a shaking arm, pointing at the figure in the corner. Amon's hand fell under his coat, reaching for the gas gun loaded with witch killing bullets. The gentleman in the corner, as befitting the sleek, trim style of his own jacket, cocked his head to one side as a toothy grin spread across his face, sadistic and gleeful. He bowed low and deep.

And, then, the fire elemental was gone, swallowed up by the crowd and the dark.

"Amon…. Where did he?" Robin breathed.

"We've been spotted," the former hunter noted. "We need to get out of here."

"But…" the girl struggled to form the words. "But what about Sakaki?"

"Now."

xxxx

Ah…. So what's gotten Amon's knickers in a twist? Stay tuned. Yes, me evil.


	8. Dancing

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Amon! Wait!"

The hunter dragged on her wrist, hauling the craft user down the front steps of the club and practically right into the startled form of Miho Karasuma. The empath and Doujima had been going up the steps and into Nocturne right as Amon and Robin had been attempting to make their own, hasty escape.

"Robin, Amon," she greeted.

Robin blinked. "Karasuma. Hello."

Amon practically thrust Robin at Doujima. "Get her out of here," the man snarled. "Karasuma, come with me."

"Amon!" The girl went to argue. "No. I don't want to leave you here!"

The man turned and glared. "Robin, listen to me. I won't leave without Sakaki, but your craft is utterly useless here." The edge off of him seemed to blur and soften slightly. "You can't help at all for the moment, so go and be safe."

She sighed but conceded. "Alright. But be safe, Amon."

"I will."

The gaping maw that was the entrance to Nocturne swallowed Amon and Karasuma as the two hunters returned to the club and to the hustle and bustle of the nightlife. Robin just stood on the steps, panting heavily, hoping beyond hope that everything would go smoothly.

"So, how've you been, Robin?"

xxxx

"They're here!"

The call went up clearly and sharply through the club. As soon as Brett had seen them in Hell, the call went through. All of that ragtag little band made it known that the STN had arrived, passing the message from one to the other. Soon, not only that little family of Brett, Kristo, Geoff, Raven, Bear, Kathain, and Nycole knew of the hunters in their midst. At the bar, it was Sakaki who was the last to hear.

Geoff told him.

"What?" The word spilled from Sakaki's mouth. "Are you sure?"

"Brett told me. I think you can trust his judgment," the bartender responded as he quickly stirred up an Appletini. "Said he saw 'em."

"Shit." The hunter slammed his fist down hard on the counter.

Geoff smirked. "Careful. The bar might fight back one of these days." He glanced over Sakaki's shoulder, "Look, go keep an eye on the girls. You're scaring away customers." Haruto raised an eyebrow. "Go. Make sure those two twits don't burn themselves."

"Sure."

xxxx

The music thumped in Karasuma's head. She felt dizzy and exhausted from running for almost 48 hours straight. The woman stumbled, but Amon caught her and righted the woman. Karasuma blushed at her own stupid accident.

"Ernst wenn die Wolken schlafengehen," a crooning female voice sang in a calm moment. "Kann man uns am himmel sehen."

She sighed. "How could anyone like this angry of music… in German no less?"

"It feeds them," Amon responded

"Wir haben Angst und sind allein," the woman sang again.

The man turned away. "The energy these people derive from the song comes from the song itself." He barely registered any emotion to the empath. "It is their way of life."

"I know," Miho admitted sheepishly.

"Keep looking."

xxxx

Neither of the hunters could have noticed the eyes upon them.

A shadow moved along the wall, detaching itself for but a moment before returning to the deep, concealing dark. It stepped forward, away from the depths of the club.

Steel glittered and gleamed.

Then, it recoiled, receding and returning to the darkness.

They should have been dead. Both Amon and Karasuma. The figure could have ended them in a flash, both of them. Yet, it did not. The shadow had given its polite regards, studying and learning about both of these interlopers in the affairs of Nocturne. It took careful mental notes of everything and anything about the pair.

The shadow seemed to nod before disappearing again.

xxxx

Amon and Karasuma spent the rest of the evening patrolling the bar and grounds, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. They didn't even see Sakaki at all. Amon began to wonder if it was all just some petty joke meant to scare Robin and him into returning to the STN-J, to hunting.

'No,' Amon thought, shaking his head.

Karasuma wasn't like that. Never in all the time he had known the empath had she acted in an irrational or illogical manner. It was as if the woman was completely incapable of doing such a thing. Miho had never been one to joke or tease, especially not with Robin, let alone Amon. She was level headed, cool, and responsible.

Sakaki, on the other hand….

He looked to Miho. All the color had drained from her face, save two dark rings, one under each eye. Amon couldn't tell exactly how long the empath had been awake, but the man knew exhaustion when he saw it. The woman sat slumped on a bar stool beside him, practically falling asleep in her chair. Amon raised an eyebrow, wondering how long it would take the hunter to just fall right off the stool.

"Karasuma." He didn't even look up when Miho tried to meet his gaze. "Go home."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Nothing's happening." Miho stood, stretching out her aching muscles. "Call me if anything does."

"Sure."

xxxx

They could breathe a sigh of relief.

At least, Kathain and Nycole did. As they pulled off their fairy wings and began to make their way back from Hell and into Purgatory, their hearts lifted a little, fluttering up with the music. Kathain even did a little sly sort of jig when the two reached the bar of Purgatory. Nycole laughed, giving Geoff a fun sort of hug, pausing only to give a quick look to the odd, darkly clad customer slouching over his drink.

Nycole shrugged it off as Kathain helped her up to the bar.

The two chuckled as the closing music began to play, dimming slightly. They clapped in time, as did the bartenders. Something about closing always felt so right to Nycole and yet so sad. Everyone came together for those few lines before splitting away and leaving for the evening. There was so much energy, such life, it would have been hard for anyone to resist that joyous feeling.

Nycole wondered how the dark figure slumped over his drink couldn't feel it. Jokingly, the girl made up a grand tale about how the man with the regal features and bearing had been dumped by a girl and run into the ground, come to set himself right by meeting the perfect little gothy girl.

She gave a nod in his direction to give Kathain the heads up as the girl passed.

Kathain smiled and crouched down low before him, whispering into his ear. "Y'know, things would be a lot more fun for you if you just let go and got into it."

The stranger peered up at the girl crouched before him. "Really?"

Kathain jumped, nearly falling right off the back of the bar. She blinked. Nycole's heart jumped, thumping heavily in her chest, but her friend's deft hand shot out and caught one of the heavy wooden beams. All the color drained from her face, but Kathain blushed at her mistake and tried to shake it off.

"You're a character….. aren't you?"

xxxx

The club emptied quickly and easily that night, with no problems.

Sakaki could finally relax, or so he thought. The man strode up to the bar, a lilt in his step, as the last customer downed a final shot for the road. The hunter pulled up a stool and sat right by Nycole and Kathain, who rested on the bar. Something clicked beside his head, a familiar noise. Nycole screamed, but Kathain just quietly shrank back, holding her breath.

Sakaki merely stiffened, freezing in place. "Took you long enough."

Slowly, carefully, the hunter turned, only to stare down the barrel of a gas gun, to Amon. The former hunter continued to gaze deeply into the empty shot glass, as if all the mysteries of the universe were contained therein.

"So, is it true?" Amon inquired.

Sakaki's brow knit. "Is what true?"

"Have you betrayed the STN-J?"

xxxx

Mmm…. Finally some action and confrontation.


	9. Glower

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

She couldn't stand it any longer.

The entire car ride back towards Raven's Flat, Robin couldn't sit still. Her heart raced, faster and faster, as worry overtook her mind. While Doujima drove, the teenager rang her hands with concern, squeezing them hard. Robin could almost kick herself at the thought of just leaving Amon and Karasuma there, in that vile den of witches and craft users. She left them there practically defenseless, abandoned them.

"Stop the car, Doujima." Robin slipped her glasses on.

The blonde glanced to her former coworker. "Huh?"

"We're going back."

xxxx

"Amon, I never betrayed the STN."

Anger and aggression skittered across the air, carried on Sakaki's voice. He trembled, a mix of rage and terror, pure and sweet. It was primal, guttural, instinctive. Sakaki tensed, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge like some sort of an animal. However, this animal was distinctly a predator, cornered and threatened. Sweat poured off Haruto in droves as the man trembled. Anyone could see the gleaming perspiration under his black fishnet. The straps and buckles of Sakaki's pants swung and clattered from his shaking body.

Amon tried to ignore that.

He focused on something more important. At the end of his gas gun, was a former partner, perhaps even a friend, if Amon ever allowed someone close enough to be considered his friend.

Worse than that, this man was a Seed.

The people around him, were witches. Amon was surrounded by witches. All of them. And the former hunter had no idea what any of their Crafts included. This one could be an empath, that one a telepath. The man all but knew there was a fire elemental among them, like his own Robin.

The air felt charged.

'Is it Sakaki?'

He cocked the gun, still pointed right between Sakaki's eyes. His quarry swallowed hard, as if knowing and accepting his fate.

"Amon, NO!"

Robin screamed out shrilly as soon as she came across them. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks at the thought of those witch killing bullets pointed directly at Sakaki, but Amon refused to drop his gun.

'_End it,'_ Someone chirped in Sakaki's ear, an unknown, invisible foe.

Sakaki quivered, like a leaf in wind. "No…."

'_End him.'_

"I can't…" Haruto's breath grew ragged. "I can't do it."

Robin drew in a deep breath in fear. She balled a fist, preparing to use her Craft and unleash the fire from within her heart and soul into the world.

"Sakaki, stop this," Amon practically shouted.

Robin didn't have to.

In a flash, Sakaki was in motion, standing suddenly. Amon, however, was thrown across the room by some unseen force, seen only by Robin. She watched the pure bolt of energy streak at her partner, hurling him aside as if the man were utterly weightless. She watched it come directly from Sakaki as the hunter collapsed in a heap.

Robin rushed to Amon's side, checking to ensure he was alright, before looking to the other fallen man. "Sakaki…. You're…

"A witch," Amon coughed, staggering to his feet.

Nycole scrambled from behind the counter, crawling across the floor towards her fallen friend. "Sakaki…."

He sat up, clutching his shaking head between two hands. A thin trickle of blood slipped from his nose, pattering on the ground with slight plops and splashes. The world seemed to spin around those little red marks on the floor as Sakaki panted hard, trying to compose himself and fight back the splitting headache. The man sat, staring down into his open, empty hands, as if looking for something to appear.

"Oh, God…." He stumbled over the words, trying to form a coherent thought, but the stabbing, blinding pangs kept Sakaki from consciously speaking. "Oh, God… No…. no.. no… I'm sorry… Oh, God, I'm sorry…. Amon…" Sakaki rocked back and forth, obviously tormented by what he'd just down, out of instinct. "Amon…. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to."

Nycole's hand drifted over his head, and, as if the performer pulled the pain from him, the migraine dispelled. He looked up just as she whispered, "Better?"

"Thanks…"

Amon straightened, drawing his gas gun again, rushing towards Sakaki and aiming at his head again. But anger flooded through Nycole, and the girl stood defiantly, her eyes flickering with white flame. Glasses rattled at the bar, sending Robin jumping. Sakaki hadn't gotten control yet.

"Sakaki. Just stop now," the former hunter instructed sternly. "Calm yourself and quiet your Craft."

The witch just rocked back and forth more, faster, clearly terrified and out of control. Robin blinked. It was Sakaki's fright and terror that sent his Craft out of control. Robin had seen it so many times. Before she hunted down those who awakened like this. Now, however, it was Sakaki, and Robin didn't know if she could hunt him.

"Stop, now," Amon ordered curtly. "Or I will be forced to fire upon you."

'_Stop now.'_ A voice echoed in his mind, but a frail whisper, carried on the wind, skipping across a still pond.

Amon spun around, searching for the source of it. "Who said that?"

'_Who, indeed?'_

The former hunter blinked. "Who's there?"

'_Wouldn't you like to know?'_

Amon turned and saw the girl standing before him. Nycole. Her shoulder length, straight red hair seemed to fluff up and flare with an electric tingle. White flame, pure and true, blazed behind her eyes, just as sparks danced across Robin's eyes went her Craft awoke. This girl, this performer was a witch.

'_Lay one hand on Haruto, and I'll end you here and now.'_

He gasped, raising the gas gun to her now, but it was knocked from his hand. "Witch."

"You got that right," Nycole purred bitterly in her physical voice before adding in his mind, _'Now leave him alone.'_

"How long… since you awoke to your Craft?" Robin asked softly.

'_It doesn't matter.' _The mental voice snapped at her now.

The teenager gasped at the sudden intrusion of her mind. "Amon, c'mon," Robin begged; she tugged on his elbow. "Please."

Amon took a step back from the female witch in front of him. "This isn't over yet."

Nycole gave a sly grin as the hunters left the club, backing out slowing, their eyes never leaving the witches gathered before they bolted for Raven's Flat and for sanctuary.

'_It's barely started.'_

A collective sigh of relief escaped all of the witches as they relaxed. Kathain finally emerged from behind the bar, a smug look of knowledge written on her face. Nycole flew back to Sakaki's side, taking a scrap of cloth to wipe away the blood from his nose.

"Are you alright, now?" She asked, wrapping long arms around him comfortingly.

Sakaki shrugged off her embrace. "No."

"You can never go back to the STN," Kathain breathed from her spot behind the bar.

Geoff gave a nod. "No. You can't ever. They'll hunt you down and do God knows what to you." He threw a rag at the bar. "You can't go back to anything like that."

"Yeah, but, Geoff, we need them," Sakaki argued.

Nycole turned his head to her with a gentle hand. "No. Right now, you need to go rest and regroup." He went to argue, but she placed a finger on his lips. "Trust me, you need to get some rest. You're unstable, Haruto."

"I guess," he conceded.

"They'll be back. We can try again then."

xxxx

Sorry about the slip up with posting Ch8 Dancing. I forgot to set the Chapter to the new file, so it defaulted to Ch. 1.


	10. Sleep Waltz

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Damnit, damnit, damnit," Geoff swore.

Kristo appeared from nowhere, climbing down with monkey-like grace from the ceiling rafters, katana at his side. The long-haired man sulked slightly as he slunk towards the group, holding his tongue.

"Where the hell were you?" Geoff demanded.

Kristo just shrugged. "Around."

"And you let that happen?"

The swordsman gave another shrug of his shoulders. "What would you have liked me to do? Kill them? Then we'd just have bodies on our hands."

Brett sighed. "You could have done something."

"Bullshit!" Kathain shouted from her spot behind the bar. "That's bullshit, and you know it." She stood taller, speaking with a certain grace and regality unique to even her. "You know there was nothing he could do." Kathain smiled, letting her guard down. "You did alright, Kristo. They can't know anything about us, until we know where they stand."

"Yeah…"

Nycole emerged from the seating area, hands stuffed in pockets and forlorn look spread across her face. Kathain pricked to her. "How is he?"

"He's sleeping now."

xxxx

"Amon, slow down."

The former hunter gave a quick look to the speedometer and eased off the gas pedal. The man tried to relax, but he couldn't. Amon allowed the car to slow, but his mind would not. He felt violated, inside and out, from that voice.

'That voice…'

It had been pervasive and unclean, like being raped mentally. Even now as the trees sped past, as Robin and Amon returned to their hideout, the feeling lingered on, as a dirty taint. And it came directly from that witch. She was powerful, strong, and especially dangerous. But she was cool and calculating. Meanwhile, Sakaki was uncontrolled and unstable, a meltdown waiting to happen. A witch. A telekinetic.

Amon didn't know what to feel anymore about Sakaki. He couldn't trust his former coworker anymore, not now that Sakaki had awoken as a witch. Especially not now that Haruto had even gone so far as to attack Amon.

Amon wondered how deep Sakaki's betrayal actually ran.

He took out his cell phone and dialed.

"Karasuma, I need your help."

xxxx

He slept.

Nycole kept vigil over Haruto. She wiped his forehead with a cool, damp cloth every now and then, cleaning away his sweat. Sakaki trembled, tossing and turning. Nycole wished, in her deepest heart of hearts that she could help him, but Haruto denied her gifts. He preferred not to ask to use her Craft to help him in any way. Typical male, never wanting a woman's aid.

"Oh, Haruto."

The girl mentally chastised herself as soon as the name fell from her lips. She cursed herself for saying his first name, forgetting that it was custom, or practice, or some sort of social decorum, to call people by their last name in those foreign lands. The girl could have hit herself for letting her guard down.

He tossed again, in the throws of some terrible dream, whimpering slightly before settling down in her arms.

"Shh…."

Nycole's vision moved across Purgatory. In the tight confines of the sitting area, she rested beside the sleeping Sakaki on a couch, along with everyone else who wasn't on watch. On the near couch, Kathain lay, curled in a little ball like a kitten, wrapped tight under a warm blanket. Brett and Geoff sprawled across a futon on the floor, dragged down from the loft. Somewhere, Bear, Raven, and Kristo kept watch, patrolling the club and guarding their charges.

Even then, as Nycole watched, Kristo emerged from nowhere and checked the doors again. Comforted by his presence, the girl put her head back down to sleep.

The night had been long, and they would have to leave, again.

Soon.

xxxx

"I don't know about this."

Karasuma sat in her own couch, huddled up with a blanket. After Amon gave the empath her leave, the woman had gone right back to her home. She sat with a terrible movie on the tv and fell asleep on her sofa, with her blanket. Once Amon and Robin returned and asked her that terrible request. Sitting there, feeling so small, Karasuma almost wanted a cup of hot cocoa to nurse with both hands.

"Karasuma…" Amon didn't know how to argue with her, how to convince her to do as he asked, without begging.

Robin spoke coolly, casually. "Please. We need to know what he's thinking."

"We need to know how deep his betrayal cuts," Amon added.

Karasuma thought for a moment before admitting to herself that it had to be done. "Alright. I'll do it."

xxxx

Darkness.

He had to be asleep.

But… he wasn't alone.

Karasuma waited, wanting, watching.

"Sakaki."

The voice spoke from nowhere, in his mind.

Karasuma looked about, searching for the source, but there seemed to be none. Yet, there was no logical source. It was an old woman, or, at least, it sounded like one. It spoke directly to Sakaki, and no one else.

"Sakaki. I need your help."

"You need to end her." Another voice spoke up, a male one, harsher and angrier. "Kill her. Slit her throat."

Karasyma shuddered. What voices? What horrible things the told him to do!

But, these voices… they were foreign, distinct from Sakaki. There were entirely separate. This was no mere fragmentation of memory, nor multiple personality disorder. These voices were separate from Sakaki and conscious on their own. And, yet, they were dead.

"Kill Karasuma!"

xxxx

"KILL!"

She drew in a sharp breath, jolting back to the real world from her scrying. Robin jumped from the snarling voice that erupted from Karasuma just before the woman emerged from her subconscious, from Sakaki's mind.

"Karasuma!"

The empath looked to Amon, her eyes wet and she bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Robin turned to Amon. "That was unusual."

"Scrying has consequences," Amon interjected nonchalantly.

"Not like that."

xxxx

Something clattered across the floor.

Sakaki cracked his eyes open. The others were asleep around him, all but one. Kathain. She sat in the middle of the dance floor of Purgatory, dwarfed in that sea of nothingness. A loop of salt circled her, a white ring in the seeming vastness of the black floor. Before the girl, small wooden chips were scattered about, tossled and jumbled. A few lay face up, the burnt markings calling out to her.

Sakaki sat up just as the girl began.

A song escaped her lips, hummed first, then murmured. Sakaki couldn't understand it at all, even when the girl's voice raised up slightly. The language was lost to him. But the runes, they were definitely the Futhark. Her trade. Her Craft. Sakaki knew Kathain didn't need them to see what she sought, but the girl insisted sometimes on the weirdest things.

Her hand passed over the runes as they spoke to her. They were but whispers, faint and distant, speaking in tongues to Sakaki. But, to Kathain, they spoke volumes in loud, clear dialects. Her fingers curled and uncurled over the wooden bits. Her long nails seemed so much longer, more predatory than human. Her eyes seemed to glaze over and fade, falling to a dimmer white.

She regarded each and every one of the runes in time and, then, sat back easily.

The hunter finally spoke. "What do they tell you?"

"They only confirm things," Kathain replied solemnly.

Sakaki nodded. "And what do they confirm?"

"Hagalaz, here," she pointed out a rune with an unusual "H" shape. "Is the Rune of Disruption. It indicates general chaos in our future, and disarray. If there ever was a Tower Card of the runes, Hagalaz would be it." Kathain's pointer shifted to another rune. "This rune, here, is Thuruzas. It is the Gateway, a sign of change, for the better OR worse. It is… interesting."

Sakaki knew better than to try to get her to explain like that. It all summed up to nothing. He also knew never to have the girl just tell him. Kathain would awaken and go into far flung realms that no man- nor woman- could dream of.

"What have you seen?" Haruto inquired.

The girl shrugged. "I'm not sure. I have seen our friend in black, Amon, I think you called him. I have seen him come to attack us again, and fire upon us. I have seen death and despair. I have seen scientific studies." Her eyes glazed and the color fell away, leaving icy-white irises. "We are no longer in the gods good graces."

"What does it all mean, Kathain?" Sakaki asked.

"We're boned."

xxxx

Enjoy.


	11. Into the Sun

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

They fled.

The entire group of them.

They just packed up everything they could from the loft and left Nocturne abandoned. Maybe, someday, they could go back. But, right then, at that moment, as the sun rose, they had to leave. The sign in the window read "Closed Indefinitely" in dual languages. They filed out somberly upon leaving that sign and locking the doors behind them.

Geoff paused to give one last, sighing look to Hell, to the runes above the stage.

He shook his head and pulled the door shut.

Who knew when it'd be safe enough to return?

They thought they were safe at Nocturne. The STN and Solomon couldn't attack a large group like that, and especially not in the middle of a nightclub. Or so they had thought. Amon's very presence the night before indicated otherwise. Nocturne was no longer the nice, safe, cozy sanctuary it had once been. The trust and welcome that ragtag band offered had been broken and betrayed.

Even then, as Geoff climbed into the driver's seat of the green sedan, Sakaki feverishly rested, still trying to recover from the psychic outburst; Nycole stroked his hair, trying to sooth his pain. Geoff saw the pain written on her face. Nycole was an empath. She felt the emotions and thoughts of others, sometimes hurtfully so. Haruto's guilt, mingled with his sadness and fear, sting at her.

Sakaki had become the very thing he once hunted. The hunter was a witch, and an uncontrolled, dangerous one at that.

"How's he doing?"

The girl shrugged. "They're talking to him."

Geoff nodded, knowing exactly what she spoke of. "It'll be ok. We'll be back to the house in no time."

Nycole rubbed her head dolefully, desperately attempting to force the migraine from her head. Sakaki's migraine. It happened from time to time, with newly awakened witches. Without the proper control, they could easily overload and essentially blow a circuit. It was quite excruciating for the witch in question, along with any nearby empath. However, Sakaki wouldn't know this or understand any of this until he had rested up fully. He'd only been out for maybe three hours and was barely coherent when they loading him into the backseat of the car. Another 8 to 24 hours would see him up and ready to go.

Geoff twisted the key roughly in the ignition, and the sedan roared to life.

"We'll be home soon."

The few cars there peeled out, leaving Nocturne behind them.

xxxx

Karasuma had been ill in the night, violently so. Robin had cringed at the sound of the woman retching in her own toilet. The girl didn't want to think about whatever had hurt her so badly while scrying that it made Karasuma so sick. She wanted to go to Miho's side and comfort her, but the empathy had locked the bathroom door securely behind her.

Thus. Robin spent an unsuccessful half hour pleading with Kaasuma through the door.

After some time, the woman grew still and quiet, possibly sleeping even. Robin gave up and returned to the living room. There, Amon just stood, staring out the windows as the sun rose.

"Amon…. What's happening?"

The man didn't answer exactly. "We need to wrap this up as quickly and neatly as possible before Solomon figures out we've been helping the STN-J."

"And Sakaki?" she dared utter the question.

"He has chosen to side with the witches." Amon sat in the armchair, still not deigning to face the teenage girl behind him. "He has become one of them, and must be hunted."

Robin blinked. "But, you saw, he didn't want to hurt you. It was an accident."

"He has the secrets of the STN-J; he knows about you and the Arcanum," the man pointed out. "That's the only reason why we came to help Karasuma."

The Craft user shook her head. "No, it isn't. You enjoyed hunting."

Amon surged up onto his feet and before her in an instance. "Do you think I enjoy hunting down my friends. Sakaki, Kate…." The man swallowed hard. "You?"

Robin gasped. It was the first time she'd ever seen the distant Amon truly show emotion, and a real attachment to anyone. It was also the first time she'd ever hear him refer to anyone as his "friends." Amon had a softer side, somewhere under the rugged, gruff exterior of a hunter. He had a heart.

"I'm sorry."

Robin watched as he just backed away and sat again. "It's alright, Amon."

"No, it's not," Miho piped up.

Robin whirled around. The empath had been standing the doorframe for Lords knew how long. Robin prayed Miho had only just caught the tail end of that conversation, but, somehow, judging from the look on Karasuma's face, she'd been there longer.

"What did you see while scrying?" Amon pressed.

The empath let out a heavy breath. "If I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me. But, I'm going to tell you anyway." Karasuma let her full weight fall onto the couch before continuing. "Sakaki's gotten himself into a world of trouble. There's something different about him." Her fingers traced out the lines of fabric on the arm of the couch. "There are voices in his mind, telling him to do things. Voices that aren't his."

"The telepath." Robin was the first to jump to that conclusion.

Amon nodded, taking it in. "Could he be brainwashed?"

"Possibly. Or possibly something worse," Karasuma lamented. "I can't be sure at the moment. But, whatever it is, it's violent."

"Is it controlling him?" the teenager inquired.

Miho shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't seem to be actively controlling him like brainwashing, but it is affecting his mental stability. This could be what's triggered his awakening." She closed her eyes. "You two go home for a while. I'll scry him again later and see what I can pull up."

Robin smiled warmly. "Rest well, Miss Karasuma."

xxxx

Sakaki's eyes cracked open.

"Good morning," Nycole purred.

Haruto's head pounded from the sound, almost like a hangover. Every sound beat his brain sharply, thumping on his skull. But the bright, happy sunshine was worse. The light blinded him, forcing his eyes immediately shut in instinctive response. Fortunately, the fairy sitting over him seemed to know and pulled a bandana over his eyes, tying it lightly behind his head.

"What happened?"

The girl placed a hand atop his heart. "You did good, Sakaki. It's ok." She spoke in hushed whispers, as if sensing his acoustic sensitivity. "You had an instinctive, defensive reaction. We'll have to work on controlling that."

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Leaving Tokyo."

xxxx

Miho drank her coffee slowly, holding the green jacket Sakaki had accidentally left at his desk. Amon and Robin returned to their haven, wherever that was. Haruto, however, refused to show up for work, or answer his found. This was providing the man was still capable of making the choice to answer or refuse her calls.

Amon's questioning burned in her mind.

"Brainwashing, mind control."

She had to be sure.

She had to scry one more time.

xxxx

_Voices. Distant._

"_Future."_

"_What do you see, Kathain?" It was Sakaki who asked this._

_Kathain? A name. At last, Miho was making progress._

_A female voice, obviously this Kathain's sang back. "I see the end of the world as we know it, Sakaki. It is the beginning of a new era. War is coming. In one short month, you will lose your closest mentor and a dear friend of yours."_

_The memory of the Factory flashed before Karasuma._

"_A woman by the name of Karasuma shall be bound and held."_

_This was a memory of Sakaki's. Kathain had known about the Factory._

"_They will die and be reborn, for she is the phoenix. A child of flame, magic, and science."_

xxxx

"She knew…."

Miho breathed the words.

A precognitive. In Tokyo. And a powerful one at that. Precognitives had the ability to look into the future, just as Karasuma could look into emotions and the lingering energy on objects. They could tell you exactly how something was going to happen. And this one had known about Robin and the Factory. Who knew how dangerous this precog was as she wandered about Tokyo? Who knew what else these people were capable of?

Karasuma sighed. This had gone on long enough.

She had to report Sakaki and his friends.

For his own safety, Miho rationalized.

xxxx

Brett's sedan thundered down the highway, screaming and darting through traffic, threading through the lanes. He'd lost Geoff and Bear's cars amidst the morning rush long ago. It was a good thing everyone knew where they were heading. Brett had to drive like that, to loose himself in the adrenaline and pour out his energy into the engine and the road.

Loud music poured out of the speakers. Luckily, only Brett and Kathain rode in that car. Kristo, Raven, and Bear had taken one car, while Geoff, Nycole, and Sakaki were in the other. Kathain didn't mind the volume at all. She actually seemed to be enjoying it, loosing herself in the lyrics as much as Brett fell into the pure action of driving. Getting out of Nocturne and cutting loose like that seemed oddly comforting to the two of them, almost homey and welcoming.

The highway yawned before them, as much of the traffic disappeared along with the dwindling traffic.

"Slow down. Cop ahead."

Brett dropped his foot from off of the accelerated. After years of being around Kathain, he had learnt to trust the girl whenever she said such a thing. And, sure enough, just as they rounded a curve and hit a legal speed, Brett caught sight of the patrol car parked along the shoulder of the highway.

"Thanks," Brett called over the volume.

Kathain didn't answer. After a few seconds, he glanced over to her, taking his eyes off of the road just long enough to see the girl writing in her brown, leather bound book, ornamenting the name on that page.

The young man blinked disbelievingly. "He's one of the Thirteen?"

"Yup."

Brett looked again to make sure he'd read it right, but the name was there, emblazoned in black ink against the starkness of the page. "You're sure."

"Positive," Kathain flatly replied.

The name on the page, read simply:

_Amon._

xxxx

Me even meaner. Have a wonderful day stewing over this one.


	12. Refugees

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

Word traveled quickly around the STN-J.

Haruto Sakaki, investigator, hunter, and loyal friend, was to be hunted. The order had come down directly from Solomon open hearing of the situation. He was to be hunted and detained on site, sedated immediately. His fate was sealed.

And it was Karasuma's fault.

She had gone to speak with Kosaka, who immediately overreacted. Karasuma spent at least an hour pleading her innocence before he had no other choice but to call the events in to Solomon. Kosaka ordered her to state everything she knew, everything. She sat on the phone for another hour at least just telling her tale. She spoke of Nocturne, of the witches sanctuary disguised as a club, of the witches who lived there. Miho told them of the fire elemental, the telepath, and the precognitive. Solomon's interest immediately pricked at the last one.

In the end, the order came down hard and true.

Doujima sat at her desk, trying not to cry or ruin her makeup.

Michael, meanwhile, hammered away at his keyboard, as if he could ignore the world in favor of the small screens and monitors, in favor of the digital realm. There, the hacker didn't have to help in the hunt of his own friend.

"Hey," Miho greeted as she returned from the meeting with Kosaka.

Michael didn't answer. He just stared deeply into the screen. Michael and Sakaki had been close friends, despite their differences. They were almost brotherly, like long lost siblings. Karasuma couldn't blame the hacker if he chose to hate her forever for what she'd done. In fact, the empath wouldn't be angry or upset at all if Michael chose to.

Karasuma leaned close to the hacker. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Michael hardly flinched at the apology. "I'm sorry, but Sakaki's dangerous. He can't control his Craft and he's being used as someone's puppet. He's being controlled by someone else." Miho closed her eyes. "I just…. I want to help him."

"He's not dangerous. He's Sakaki." The empath had never heard him speak so bitterly, so harshly towards anyone.

Miho nodded. "Sakaki's just a tool for someone who is truly dangerous." The empath's heart melted in her chest. "It's not his fault. None of this is." She tapped her fingers on the desk nervously. "It's the people he's with. We need to get him away from them."

"But, you… and Solomon…. Solomon ordered the hunt," Michael stammered. "You agreed to it."

Miho closed her eyes, trying not to get upset. "I had to. Don't you understand?" He didn't say anything in response to that. "Someone from that group is controlling Sakaki. He's not OUR Sakaki anymore." Her fist balled in sudden aggression. "It's that telepath." Rage swelled within her. "We have to hunt him. If she's still in control, there's no telling what she'll make Sakaki do. To us…. To himself…"

Michael's jaw dropped. He hadn't thought of it that way, but Karasuma held a valid point. Even Doujima looked startled at that, but the blonde couldn't argue. Both had seen the power of witches, the unimaginable forces of the unseen Crafts. A witch could most certainly be completely capable of forcing Sakaki by mental coercion.

"He'll be alright," Miho assured the hacker. "We'll get him back, and set everything straight."

xxxx

The house had stood vacant for close to two years.

Even after they moved to Japan, they had only stopped to visit the house but once or twice to be sure there were ample supplies in the event of an emergency. Other than that, the house had been left to itself. Years ago, when he first purchased the house, Kristo had a groundskeeper tend to the property, but, now, the gardens had over grown into wild thickets. The koi pond that had once been beautiful kept, but, now, it lay practically stagnant. It surprised Kristo even then that a few of the large, graceful fish still swam, coming up and begging for food just as they had while he lived there.

The house itself had, at one point, been considered "opulent." It had been simple enough for Kristo to afford it, mostly from helping save another witch from Solomon. The grateful witch, before fleeing for the nearest hiding spot, sold Kristo the house for the paltry sum of 500, so long as the witch and his family, were welcome whenever they needed the refuge.

Thus far, they had yet to return.

Upon setting foot on the long driveway, Kristo wondered what became of Fukai, his wife, Yumi, and their twin babies. He hadn't heard anything of them, or seen them since buying the house. Absently, the man pondered if Solomon had finally caught up with the small family and imprisoned them as witches.

Dusk had just begun to settle over the house, casting eerie shadows this way and that. He held his handcrafted katana low at his side before slowly moving towards the house, keeping his guard up as he approached. Kristo allowed all sounds to pass through his ear, listening and looking for the telltale signs of intruders. Thus far, there was nothing. Only crickets, a few last birds calling out for the evening, and the swiftly rolling twilight crossing over the home.

The crunch of gravel under tires alerted him to the other cars pulling up the driveway behind him. The bright headlights shone against the white panels of the house. Yet, Kristo didn't flinch. The man continued on his patrol, knowing that the car approaching was just Brett. The younger of the two men must have taken a longer route to the house, taking the time to drive and work out his anxieties on the highway.

Besides, Kristo had no need to worry about anyone coming up the driveway. Bear and Raven sat in his little car, the engine still running and in gear, ready to strike at anyone who would dare come uninvited.

It wouldn't be too long before Geoff, Nycole, and Sakaki made their way up to the house.

Kristo strode up to the porch that wrapped around the home. He moved closer to the walls, to where the shadows pooled in deep inky blobs. They seemed to stretch and crawl, reaching towards the man. Kristo smirked to himself and stepped into the dark. It swallowed the modern samurai in a flash, and into the dark he went. The shade carried him easily from place to place, concealing the man, allowing him to pass this way and that, to check the entire grounds. He moved from the small dog run to the right of the house, past the koi pond, around the porch, over the gravel garden, and to the back. When the man paused over the smoothly worn sparring ring, the night spat him out.

Kristo stepped down from nothingness itself and onto the stone. "Home at last."

He tiptoed up the steps and back into the shadows, before passing into the house itself. The man checked this way and that, moving through the old cobwebs, pulling them down. The black of night swept over his footsteps, concealing them. The house was empty, perfectly so.

Kristo stepped out of the shadows and into the large living and dining room. This room, this large, bamboo floored hall, had once been the life of the house. Here, he had eaten, lived, practiced and slept. An old futon still lay on the floor from the last night Kristo had slept there, before he met the group and found his own destiny. This room would once again feel the life and energy of a home.

He moved to the breaker boxes and set the main breaker. Lights flickered to life as electricity filled the house. Instantly, one bulb burnt out. Kristo shrugged it off. It was but one among many. The house felt alive again.

He opened the front door for Kathain, Bear, Raven, Brett, Geoff, Nycole, and Sakaki, bidding them to enter. The others flooded into his house, like an army seeking camp for the night. Sakaki seemed better from sleeping all day in the car; the hunter even walked on his own. Kathain and Nycole had even gone so far as to swap nervous, frazzled jokes as they searched the house for extra futons and blankets for the night.

Kristo, however, just went out and back into the night.

He had grounds to patrol.

xxxx

They had returned that day.

The house seemed so empty after the long night at the bustling club Nocturne. Robin heaved a sigh of relief at the silence and tranquil peace of their home. Amon seemed refreshed by the quiet, too. However, that didn't last long, as the former hunter picked up the two staffs.

"Oh, Amon, can't we spar later?" Robin almost whined.

The tall man handed the teenager her staff. "You must always be ready, Robin."

She blinked, staring down at the wooden weapon in her hold; would the girl ever have to strike at Sakaki the way Amon asked her to fight him? "Amon…"

"Hmm?" he raised an eyebrow, begging her to continue.

"I…" Robin struggled to form a coherent thought. "I think we should help Karasuma find Sakaki. We should help him."

Amon shook his head. "No. Solomon's order a hunt on Sakaki. It isn't safe." Robin blinked in shock. "You have to keep one step ahead of Solomon. Standing in their path is never the wisest of choices." He saw the pain and torment in the girl's eyes. "I know you want to help him, but you can't be anywhere near him or the hunt. You'll just get captured by Solomon, or worse."

Genuine concern from Amon? She wondered who had replaced the hunter Robin had once known and worked alongside.

"I understand…"

xxxx

Michael sat up in the night, working on his computer, searching beyond hope for Sakaki, hoping that his friend was still alive out there. The hacker typed furiously on the keyboard, hunting for any sort of connection, any way at all to find the group. He started with the usual routes, trying to get a triangulation on Sakaki's phone, but the hunter had been smart enough to turn it off. He went looking into the club, cracking their files. Nothing. The club had been purchased by the group in cash, surprisingly enough, and licensed under an American name. All of their ties to the States had been severed. There seemed to be no way to find Haruto.

The hacker rolled across to another computer console, pulling up some music. He had to give up. There was no way to find Sakaki. The people who had taken him had been so very careful to cover their tracks.

But, how careful was careful?

Michael kept searching, praying they hadn't been careful enough.

xxxx


	13. Dark of the Mind

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

Solomon picked over Nocturne with a fine-toothed comb.

Karasuma supervised the operation. The empath had never seen a Solomon assault team so suddenly keen on scouring down a location. Perhaps it was Sakaki, the fact that a hunter had betrayed the STN-J. No, strangely, Karasuma felt that wasn't true. There was an inordinate amount of preparation and organization afoot. The bustle of activity felt unnatural and unusual. The agents the empath had been speaking with before the hunt was ordered had become keen and sharp at the sound of the word "precognitive."

Even as Karasuma ran her hands over the bar, attempting to scry at anything she came in contact with, the agents frowned. Behind the bar, a group from the team was reviewing notes and paperwork from Nocturne.

"Find anything of interest?"

The agents barely looked up at her. "This is a Solomon investigation now, not a matter on concern for the STN."

xxxx

Sakaki helped that day.

The house needed work, major work. Kathain and Nycole swept and cleaned, while the men worked on more important issues. They straightened up outside and pulled heavier items out of storage, setting up the house. Kristo spent the day cleaning out his guns, prepping everyone's firearms in the event of an attack.

The next day, they remained peaceful, practicing.

Sakaki found himself searching the house for clean clothes on the third night. He'd been wearing the same fishnets and black pants for two days. He had to change.

As Haruto did, he spied something curious. Out, behind the house, the others were gathering, They stood along the outer edges of the stone sparring ring. Nycole kept to the outside, crouching at the base of a tall pine tree in the back of the house. Sakaki paused to watch in curious awe and amazement.

Even as he did, Brett made some slight gesture with his hands, practically hissing in some unwritten, dead and odd language. "Heshha es marin."

The candles flickered to life around them, casting a warm, orange glow across the ring of Raven, Bear, Geoff, Kristo, and Brent. The mellow light illuminated the features of all gathered, casting strange shadows this way and that. Sakaki had known Brett was a fire elemental. He didn't know the full extent to Brett's Craft, but the hunter could guess.

"Amazing, isn't it?" a voice called behind him.

Sakaki whirled around, blushing as he stood in the mud-room in only boxers; he ducked behind the dryer door. "Uh… yeah…" Kathain smirked, almost giggling in the doorframe. "Why aren't you out there?"

"Sorta a closed party thing, y'know? You got to be on the list to get in," she explained.

The hunter self-consciously threw on his strapped pants, still wet and heavy from the washing machine. "I guess I can see that." He tried to wring out some of the water, but the pants were just damp enough to be annoying and not really sopping. "Lemme guess, Warriors only?"

"Yup." She gave a nod and climbed up onto the dryer.

Sakaki looked away. God, what he'd given up to suddenly become a fight in a battle he didn't yet understand. He wasn't even one of the Warriors. Only Kathain and Nycole truly knew for sure who was who in this dangerous game of chess. Haruto had left the STN-J, left the safety and security of his old life behind, for a cause he didn't even fully understand or appreciate yet.

Yes, his leaving had been partially due to his own awakening, but that happened as a result of being around this group.

Haruto had even requested it.

"You don't regret coming with us, do you, Sakaki?" the red head inquired, as if reading Sakaki's mind. He knew she couldn't; it wasn't in her Craft.

The hunter threw the rest of his laundry into the dryer and cranked the knob fiercely. "I don't know." He slammed the door and grew still. "I guess I kind of asked for it, didn't I?" She made a slight, smile. "When I asked Nycole to show me the truth."

Kathain nodded, kicking her feet and thumping them against the dryer. "Sadly, yes."

The young man turned away, watching as Brett practiced his Craft under the supervision of the others. Flames danced this way and that, with a finesse and grace that Sakaki hadn't even seen in Robin. Brett was a true elemental, understand the flickering, flashing light and heat of fire. He could manipulate the world around him, bending flame to his own will with greater precision than Robin.

Kathain had a point. Sakaki had asked to know the truth; he hadn't been specific. Nycole merely attempted to give him the best possible answers the only way she knew for this particular case. She reached into Haruto to open up the locks and bolts across his mind, to allow information and energy to flow freely and fluidly. The side effect was that Haruto awoke as a witch. It happened very often when a group of witches were together. Seeds sometimes awoke out of instinct around a cluster.

In truth, it was just as much Sakaki's fault as it was anyone else's.

"Kath…"

He glanced over his shoulder just in time to watch the girl's eyes roll into the back of her head as her body went limp. Kathain fell towards the tile floor, but Sakaki was fast. His long arms shot out and caught the girl before she could hit the ground.

"Kathain!"

The girl shook her head, shaking loose of whatever had taken hold of her so quickly and clearing her mind. "Sakaki, let go of me…"

The hunter jumped back, having forgotten that Kathain's Craft was just as unstable as his. She had slipped again, into the future or past, seeing some long forgotten day or something that had yet to happen. The instant he had let her go, Kathain flew backwards, up and against the washing machine, her head slamming against the hard metal with a sickening thump. Kathain's eyes just fluttered.

"What is it?" Sakaki crawled closer, as close as he could without touching her. "What are you seeing?"

She gritted her teeth. "Pain!"

The hunter surged forward, no longer caring about what she said. His long arms wrapped around her, snaking about her fragile seeming, tiny frame. Sakaki held her close and tight, trying to comfort her, to take of her suffering, but it was not in his gifts, his Craft. Sakaki felt her heart beating against him, fast and faint. Her breathing grew ragged and shallow.

"Sakaki…." The girl could hardly speak.

The man squeezed her tighter. "Fight it, Kathain."

She stiffened suddenly before stilling all together. Her breathing normalized, and her heart rate slowed. Kathain slumped forward, deeper into Sakaki's embrace.

"Sakaki…"

He looked up, raising his voice and shouting as loud as he could. "Somebody, help!"

At first, no one came. He crouched there, alone in that tiny room, with Kathain trembling in his hold. Sakaki felt the seconds crawl along until Nycole finally burst in, hurling herself at her friend's side.

"Kathain…" Nycole placed a hand on the girl's cheek.

It didn't matter; she was too far gone.

xxxx

"_Amon…."_

_He was in such pain, such terrible pain. He was suffering. Beaten. Bloodied, Battered. Broken. Scarlet blood trickled down from a jumble of bruises and a decent sized gash on above Amon's right temple. His dark eyes stared out lifelessly, as if Amon's very soul had been shattered and destroyed. He had been tortured, mercilessly, harmed by strangers. And all at Kathain's hands. It was all her fault._

_Tears streamed down her face. "No… please… stop."_

"_Tell us what we want to know."_

_Kathain struggled, but her hands were bound behind her back with handcuffs. The metal dug into her skin, cutting her with a cold/hot burn. Sticky, warm liquid ran down from her wrists. Blood. Her own blood._

"_I don't know," the girl pleaded, sobbing. "I don't know what you want."_

_They struck him again, severely. "Tell us."_

"_I can't!" Kathain shrieked out._

_Amon's husky voice murmured to her from his weak lips. "Don't tell them anything… Kathain."_

"_I don't know what they want me to tell them!" the precognitive cried. "I don't know…. I just don't know." Kathain shook her head slowly as her body trembled in terror, fear for the stranger known as Amon, the man who had attacked Nocturne. "I don't know what they want to know. I don't know…."_

"_Tell us!"_

xxxx

"I can't!"

Kathain screamed the words, rocketing up, gasping for air. The attack had been a hard one; Nycole felt it. She pitied Sakaki for having to watch another of the precognitive's episodes. And this one seemed worse than others. For, even as she knelt beside Kathain, Nycole saw dark bruises bloom on her arms, as if someone had been holding her. Red rings formed around her wrists, like friction burns.

Kathain lay there limped, while Brett picked up one of her hands, studying the marks. "What do you make of this?"

Geoff shrugged. "A really bad sign?"

xxxx

Mmm…. Wonderful precognitive tendencies starting to come up in characters. Should prove to be interesting in the long haul.


	14. Flesh and Fire

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

Returning to everyday life was difficult. It was hard to just pick up and leave, especially knowing that a hunt had been called on their friend. Robin spent the day just trying to pick up the pieces of their existence and just get back to life as usual.

And that, unfortunately, meant training.

Another day of intense, physical torture at Amon's hands, and another hour or two of sparring, right at about sunset. She had gotten glancing blows in on her partner, but nothing to win a match. Amon knocked her down just as many times as Robin got a simple strike in on Amon. He hurtled her to the ground again, but slipped suddenly.

"Ah!" Robin felt smug satisfaction rising up within as she swung her staff around, hitting Amon sharply in the shoulder and sent the big man down beside her.

The two landed side by side in the dirt.

It took the girl but a moment to recover and sit up. Amon, however, remained on the ground, a grimace plastered on his face. Robin flushed with concern as the man squeezed his upper arm tightly, as if pained. He sat up, shucked off his jacket, and clawed at the sleeve of his shirt.

"Amon…." She blinked. 'Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't think I hit you that hard…."

He shook his head and peeled the fabric of his sleeve up to his shoulder. There, forming slowly on his arm, were three red spots. Robin gasped. As she watched, they grew larger, lengthening into little, maroon lines. They darkened like bruises, but had shape, form. The lines connected, forming familiar symbols. Runes. They seemed to glow and burn beneath Amon's skin.

"Teiwaz, Hagalaz. Naudhiz," Robin named the markings.

She touched them, gently, but Amon hissed. "Burns."

"It's the curse," the girl guessed, remembering the warning from behind the stage at Nocturne. "It has to be."

"What will they do?" Amon inquired, referring to her Craft.

Robin shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure. Hagalaz is the Rune of Disruption and Discord. Naudhiz is the Rune of Constraint. Hagalaz will send misfortune your way, while Naudhiz will bind you, keep you from using any sort of supernatural gifts."

"Can you remove them?" The man asked.

"I don't think so."

xxxx

She seemed so small, so fragile, like a child, lying on the floor of the mudroom. Brett reached down and picked the girl up, cradling her as he would a child. Kathain curled closer, deeper into him. Her warm breath puffed slightly against his chest with a tiny bit of heat. He stood tall, protectively clutching Kathain. Brett gave her forehead a slight kiss, as he had done so many times before when the girl had gone off the deep end.

Then, he turned.

Their faces were pale and ashen. Not a single one of the others knew what to say. Not even Nycole or Sakaki. It didn't matter. They knew what had happened to Kathain. It was just that not a one of them had ever seen such a strong reaction. They didn't want to know yet what the girl had seen in her episode. They parted ways for Brett without any prompting, allowing the man to slip easily between them and out into the main area.

Brett laid the girl down on the sofa, pausing to smooth her hair; the fire elemental tried to be reassuring as soon as her eyes cracked open. "Hey… welcome back to the real world."

"Wha…" It took a moment for her mind to clear. "How long have I been out?"

"About five minutes," Sakaki filled her in, peering over the other side of the couch.

Brett reached out, holding her head in his hands tenderly. "Kathain, focus. Remember." She closed her eyes. "Now, what did you see?"

"I saw the man from Nocturne," Kathain whimpered, still feeling the physical effects.

"Amon," Haruto supplied in shock.

The girl nodded slowly. "Yes. I saw him. I knew him. He was…" She swallowed, feeling a lump rising in her throat and trying to force it down. "He was being tortured." Kathain looked deeply into Brett's eyes. "They knew about us. They knew,.." She sounded so hurt; her voice wavered. "They knew about me. They were trying to get me to tell them something, but I couldn't. I didn't know what they wanted."

"Who are they?" Sakaki practically leapt over the couch. "Who, Kathain?"

Her eyes slid shut again. The lights flickered overhead with an electric surge, dimming and flashing. Kathain flinched, twitching violently for a second. Then, she settled. The lights steadied and glowed brightly.

"I can't tell who it is."

xxxx

"It's getting worse."

Amon shivered. His body was covered in a cold sweat; the fever soared into the hundreds. He was burning up, and Robin could do nothing to stop it. She brought him water, but Amon, the stubborn man he was, refused to show any signs of weakness. The burns no longer marked him like bruises. No, they gradually surfaced, singing from the inside of Amon's arm, strangely leaving no char. The runes had opened into bloody burns.

"It will be fine," Amon said tersely.

Robin took some sterile gauze and placed it over the runes, wrapping them gently. She hoped the dressing would do for now.

"You need a doctor."

The man shook his head. "We can't take that risk."

Robin could already smell the stomach turning scent of burning cloth. The runes had made their way up and through the skin, into the gauze pad. The markings held some sort of acidic property. No, for the skin had been seared, like liquid fire had been poured into Amon's arm. The odor of burning flesh almost turned Robin's stomach.

"Amon…. How far is this going to go?" Her words were hushed by a sickening sizzle as the runes burnt through the last layers of gauze, to the surface.

"I don't know, Robin."

xxxx

"Hello?"

Karasuma answered her phone quickly, still at Nocturne for the investigation. She hadn't been expecting a call from anyone except the STN. So, when the emergency call number for Robin and Amon came up, it took the empath by surprise.

"Karasuma!"

It was Robin. She sounded hurt. Or afraid. Or both.

The woman almost dropped dead right in the bar at Purgatory. "What is it? What's happened?"

"It's Amon."

xxxx

Kristo patrolled.

He had heard enough about Kathain's vision to know what to expect. Slowly, carefully, with the skill and training of an ex-army sniper, the man moved through the shadows, playing with them and stepping with them. He checked older traps here and there. This trip line needed replacing. That one just needed a simple tightening.

Kristo's rounds were meticulous.

They needed to be. If Kathain was right. If someone was coming for them, even the slightest of a few seconds could mean worlds of difference. These times were perilous and the tiniest of advantages could mean life or death. And Kathain? He would never allow his errors in security cause those events to happen to her. He could never allow her to be taken.

Kathain.

She was a partner, an ally, a friend, and a younger sister of sorts. Kristo refused to allow her to be taken. The man couldn't stand the thought of her being tortured in such terrible ways. He unsuccessfully attempted to purge the thoughts from his mind.

Bitterly, Kristo took his katana and concentrated, pooling the dark and wind around the blade as it slashed through the air, through the night itself. There came a still moment afterwards, unnaturally silent. The silence echoed and roared in his ears deafeningly. The clump of bamboo, shredded by the blade, finally gave, crashing to the ground. Kristo wiped the sword clean and turned back to the house.

His shift was nearly over.

Soon, it would be time for someone else to take rounds.

But, in his heart, Kristo knew it would be of to no avail. If Kathain had seen it, it would happen. It could happen the way she said it would. It would happen eventually. The only thing that mattered was how long it would take before those events actually occurred.

This still wouldn't stop him from trying.

xxxx

Amon looked bad.

Real bad.

Actually, no. Bad was a nice way to put it. Amon looked like canned ass, to put it in better terms. He was pale, with dark rings under his eyes and sweat glistening on his forehead. The former hunter shivered despite his heavy jacket and many layers. Karasuma hurt just seeing her former partner, standing at her front door in that condition.

"Amon, what happened?" she whispered, biding both Robin and Amon to enter and sit.

The man didn't sit. Instead, he peeled off his jacket and shirt, both sticky with his warm, salty sweat. The hunter tore off the burning bandage on his arm, revealing three glowing marks in the form of Futhark runes. They steamed as the heat hit of those liquid embers the cool air of Miho's apartment.

Amon's stony gaze ignored them, looking directly to Karasuma. "I need you to scry these."

xxxx

Yes…. I am several profanities rolled into one.


	15. Staves

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"I don't know if this is going to work."

In truth, Miho couldn't be sure at all. Amon was sick, very sick, obviously caused by the burns on his arm. However, it was weird. The burns came from the inside out, without any infection of any form. They came from the witches, from their curse, written with their own blood on the stage. The empath made her former partner some tea, hoping it would sooth the man.

Karasuma hadn't seen anything like this. On all of the victims of the witches of Nocturne, the burns had never been this bad. The injuries were identical, but the wounds healed quickly on the other victims. On seeds, witches, and humans alike, the burns sealed up rather swiftly and neatly, leaving not even the faintest of pale, pink scars. They remained slightly raised marks as a warning. In Amon's case, however, the runes continued to surface, singing and burning anything placed above them. Their glowing refused to subside either.

Robin didn't want to look at it. She couldn't bear to set eyes upon the burn marks. The curse itself, the Craft of whoever had placed these demon marks on Amon. The energy, in thin, worm like strands squirmed and wriggled above and within the man's skin. She could have removed it, pulled the energy out from Amon at any time. She could have just dispelled the seeming curse very easily, with little concentration or effort and a slight wave of her hand to scatter the energy. But a lingering doubt remained as per what exact that would do to the man marked by the runes, what would be left in their wake.

It was never wise to alter something there remained doubt over. The witch had learned that years ago. Robin had learned to trust her instincts, and, right then, her instincts told her that to affect the runes would bring worse hassles for the pair of fugitives. Something about a faint whisper over them called to her and warned the girl.

'_These are meant to be.'_

Robin knew the runes. She knew them well. Even Hagalaz, the Rune of Disruption, spoke to her in gentle, comforting tones. They were welcoming, friendly, and soothing. Each and every one of the Elder Futhark held a special meaning for her, speaking to the young witch and telling her the great secrets of the universe. They were not things she should have been afraid of.

The teenager had never been afraid of the runes until then. No witch Robin had ever encountered used the runes in such a way. No spell had ever left a burning mark on a person, especially not one that continued to burn and destroy long after the injuries were left. And no runes ever felt so disquieting as these. The energy the runes had been imbued with was not normal, either. It seemed older, ancient, potent and distinctive. The power felt foreign and almost toxic, unlike anything Robin had ever seen in her life. Never before had the runes so confused and frightened Robin.

Amon took the tea in his good hand and held it, just studying it as the hot liquid swirled from mixing. Miho hadn't the heart to tell him, but the empath truly didn't think it would work. She had never attempted to scry on a living person, and never on anything as exotic as runic magic. Karasuma had never attempting anything of that magnitude, nor any form of scrying on anything, even small things, of Amon's.

Besides, he had so often looked at her gifts as an invasion of privacy. The entire time Karasuma had worked alongside Amon, the man had been very careful never to allow her to scry him. The empath never knew if it was because he despised gifts and crafts, or if it was simply the fear of what she would find hidden in the man's dark subconscious.

Amon curiously prodded at the wound lightly, jerking his finger back when he found the flesh to still be searing hot. "We have no other choice."

"Please, Karasuma," Robin begged.

The empath sighed. "Alright."

Amon moved over on the couch, allowing Karasuma to sit beside him. The woman drifted a hand over the burns, feeling the heat from the curse marks. She recoiled into herself, allowing her gifts to go free. It was like an eagle taking flight, unfurling its wings and taking to the wind.

'_Robin, promise me…'_

A surface thought, and nothing more. Miho started when she saw Amon's sacrifice for Robin during the siege on Raven's Flat. He shoved Robin down and into the secret passage ways beneath the well. Miho often wondered how exactly Amon had gotten Robin out of Raven's Flat without getting her caught by the invaders. Karasuma hadn't known what Amon had given for the Craft user. Suddenly, she fostered a deeper respect for the former hunter. There lay something there, beneath Amon's gruff exterior.

'_The witch was apprehended.'_

Again, an older, more mundane memory.

Karasuma shook her head and gave up. "I'm only picking up things from Amon, not from the runes." The woman looked to Robin. "Go fill up a bowl of ice water."

"What are you planning to do?" Amon demanded.

"I need to touch them."

xxxx

_Cursed._

"_You are cursed."_

Sakaki buried his head in the newspaper, ignoring the voice in his mind, mussing with the old, outdated periodical. He hated those voices, those distant people. They seemed to find him. Tortured souls. They spoke through Haruto's mouth.

"_They are hunting you down."_

They were talkative today, apparently, loudly.

"_They're coming."_

Sakaki slapped the newspaper down on the counter and rushed out, into the gardens. Sunlight beamed down over the grounds and the front yard as that bright orb rose in the east. The koi pond sparkled and twinkled in the daylight. Kathain waded almost up to her waist, trying to clear out the dead, fallen leaves, while Nycole and Brett sat at the edge. The handful of large, colorful pond fish swam around her, strangely not bothered by the girl's presence in their home.

"_Like lambs to the slaughter."_

"I see you're feeling better," Sakaki noted, speaking to Kathain.

"_At least, for now."_

The girl gave a nod before lobbing a huge clump of leaves from the pond and into the sloppy pile of disgusting, rotting leaves on the driveway. "Sleep always helps. And the water. Water doesn't carry anything."

"_She has seen."_

He nodded. "I see."

"_You will see."_

Nycole glanced up, already aware of the voices, the individual minds, within Haruto. "And the others? Talkative?"

"_You have no idea."_

"A bit."

xxxx

xxxx

"The Thirteen have always been."

_Whispers. Ancient languages. It poured through her ears and into her. The words wrapped around Karasuma, enveloping her and enfolding her like many warm blankets. She could hear the girl again. Kathain. They spoke in hushed voices, terrified. The words felt cursed, as if it were a sin to utter them._

"The Thirteen have always been warriors."

_Karasuma pushed harder, searching._

"There are others. And others shall come and pass."

_The runes. They came from a man. A medium sized, muscular man, hardened by years of working outside. Black feathers fluttered over him. A name carried with the bird as it jumped, surging into flight and leaving behind it a trail of molted, black wisps. The name was a simple one. Raven. Like the trickster bird itself. The runes were around him, and inside of him. However, unlike Amon, the runes burnt a warm, white light, as a blessing. The runes flowed from Raven. _

"But the Thirteen have never waned. They shall fight until the end of time, battling for all eternity."

_And from the other girl._

_There were two red heads. They danced. The long lengths of cord leading down to the glow sticks bore the runes, glowing as gleaming just as brightly and protectively as they did upon Raven. They flowed from the other girl, with the straight red hair. They slipped from her body, down the poi, and through the air in graceful arcs before fading and dispelling. Her energy fueled the runes._

"You are not of the Thirteen. But you play just as important of a role."

_Karasuma concentrated hard now, focusing on the girl who supplied the energy._

"Sakaki. We need your help, just as much as you need ours at this point."

_Nycole. The name came to Karasuma. This girl was a telepath. This had to be the one who held control over Sakaki's mind. Still, it was an important link._

"I know the spirits talk to you, Sakaki."

_Miho jumped. Spirits?_

"They move in and out of you, talk to you. You can't stop them, can you?"

_The woman felt sick suddenly, Spirits. She didn't want to hear the affirmative response from Sakaki. Now that she listened carefully, Miho could hear them, speaking in Haruto's ear, telling him things. The empath couldn't be sure if they were actually spirits of the telepath invading Sakaki's mind, for, yes, these voice were intrusive, forcing their way into the hunter._

"We can help you learn to control them."

_Control? Miho reeled, suddenly lost among the runes, lost in the combination of Teiwaz, Hagalaz, and Naudhiz. Her hand burnt, but she needed a location. The woman got closer the deeper the burns cut into her, seeing a house. The runes formed detail as the house did, the image forming in her mind with the runes on her hand. It was almost clear now._

"Just help us, Sakaki."

_She screamed._

xxxx

"No!"

Miho recoiled back, snapping away from Amon. When she looked down, her palm bore the reflected marks of the runes, branding into her flesh. Small, neat red marks. Karasuma threw her hand into the ice water to cease the burning sensation.

"Did you find anything?" Amon inquired with a lack of concern.

"I found them."

xxxx

Oh, Zurizip, I've been writing like a mad woman as of late. It's mostly for a good friend of mine and to warm up for a bigger project than this. The faster I write, the faster I get to see her reactions.


	16. Silent Night

**LUCKY THIRTEEN  
**

"We are going to be in so much trouble."

Nycole grinned from ear to ear like a madwoman. "I know, but isn't it great, Merry!"

"Absolutely, Pip!" Kathain called back.

Like Merry and Pippin from Tolken's The Lord of the Rings, they were inseparable, insufferable troublemakers. From the very moment the two girls met, they were the very best and closest of friends, bound by life, blood, and spirit. The pair of miscreants were always poking their noses where they didn't belong, curious and playful to no end. They had young, childlike souls, befitting their nature and personality.

Kathain slipped slightly on the wet earth, sliding into Nycole and giggling. "We're gonna be dead when we get back to the house."

"Well, if we're going to be dead, there's no sense in worrying about it now!" the other red head argued.

"Point."

The woods were still, dark and comforting. Crickets chirped their songs, hunting for their kith and kin among the tall, thick trees. They were oblivious to the two girls traipsing down the wood path through the back of Kristo's property. The moon hung low in the sky, full and pregnant in the sky, illuminating the old trail through the forest, along with the two girls, skipping and lilting through the trees. They laughed and joked, singing sweet little camp songs to match the crickets. The rocks beneath their feet slid slightly, but the pair just chuckled with each misstep.

Soon, they could hear the sweet trickling in the woods. A stream cut through the trees here, rock lined and babbling gently. Right there, the little creek met a huge, smoothly worn, practically flat boulder, damming it up. A massive crack, maybe four of five inches wide sliced the rock in two, where the water ran through before spilling down in a small waterfall. It pooled down but a foot below the rock before continuing on down and through the woods.

The rock was the first way marker.

Kathain knew it well, as did Nycole. The trail was an emergency path down and away from the house, in the event that anyone should ever figure the group out. The entire group could leave quickly and quietly, disappearing in to the night. At the waterfall, the actual trail ended, and they would have to turn down to walk in the stream itself. The water would conceal any scent, both physical and mental, so they could not be found.

The pair immediately sprawled across the boulder, lying over the rock itself and staring up, to the stars in the heavens.

Finally, Nycole spoke. "So, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

The empath swiftly sat up, held up her right hand, and threw out her left index finger, pointing fiercely at the girl lying beside her. "Bullshit!"

Kathain snickered slyly. The gesture came from years ago. Somewhere, one of the members of the group, who knew who at this point, had been playing an odd sort of game. It involved accusing other players of being a werewolf and killing players. The gesture that Nycole had just used was adopted from the game to call people on lying or with holding information.

"Ok."

The empath grinned in smug satisfaction. "Told you." She brought her knees up to her chin. "So, you going to tell me what?"

Kathain let out a heavy breath. "We're not safe here."

"No shit," Nycole blurted out rather bluntly.

The precognitive shook her head. "No. I mean we're really not safe here"

"Nope, you two most certainly are not."

xxxx

Amon watched the house closely from a distance.

Robin sat at his side, keeping her own careful study and survey of the home and grounds. The nearest neighbor, fortunately, was away on vacation or a business trip. Amon, Karasuma, and Robin just set up there own residence on the roof, trying to learn about the strange group of witches in the next house over.

The Craft user wasn't entirely sure what to do. She was powerful, yes, exceptionally so. The girl could quickly incinerate the house without any effort. One quick thought could just destroy the entire home and grounds, engulfing them in a sea of pure fire. But, Robin the person could not. Her heart would not allow her, especially not with Sakaki in that home. Nor could she risk that one of the many in the house was not a witch or had powers that rivaled her own. Robin had to be careful.

Amon took mental note. There were 5 men in the house, including Sakaki, and the two girls that had gone down the path. The girls appeared to be unarmed, while the others were quickly cleaning and prepping guns, knives, swords, a whole assortment of weapons in the living room.

They were an assault team of their very own.

Amon touched the demon mark on his arm. The runes still glowed, a sort of warm yet disconcerting light. His hand snapped back from the searing heat. He looked to Karasuma, who was studying her own brand of the runes on her palm. It was enough that Amon had been marked; he took responsibility for whatever actions lead to the curse befalling him. However, now, who knew what would happen to Karasuma?

They had to act.

"Let's go."

xxxx

"Jesus fucking Christ, Kristo. You scared the bloody piss out of me!" Kathain swore.

The man just chuckled to himself. "Yeah, but it was fun."

Nycole gave him a playful shove. "I'm gonna throw your ass in the stream!" He coyly fought back, teasing the girl. "You're dead."

"And you're one to talk!" Kristo spun her around, keeping Nycole in a light hold. "You two just HAD to go out, just HAD to leave the house without letting anyone know, without taking someone to keep an eye out for you." He tickled the girl before letting her loose. "What were you guys thinking?"

Kathain shrugged sadly, "I needed to get out. It's my fault."

"I don't care whose fault it is." Kristo bellowed, his hand falling to the hilt of his katana. "You know you shouldn't be going out without an…. Escort." The word fell flatly and limply, as if even the man knew a body guard wouldn't help much at all. "Especially you, Kathain, after what you saw."

The three stood in silence, allowing just the sound of the water to pass between them.

"I'm sorry," the precognitive finally murmured.

Kristo squeezed her shoulder sweetly. "Let's get you back up to the house."

xxxx

"One more."

Amon made a quick mental note of the wannabe samurai strolling up the path towards the house, following by the two red headed dancers from Nocturne. One more man would just add to the odds against them, but it was a risk Amon was willing to take. His gas gun remained loaded with the witch killing bullets in the event of a worst case scenario, and the former hunter knew Robin herself was a force to be reckoned with. Karasuma's gun was loaded with a fresh clip of tranquilizers.

Quickly, quietly, they moved down from the neighbor's roof as their prey returned to the house. The entire group had settled in, working on their weapons. The two girls giggled and went back to the kitchen to start cooking, Amon circled around behind the house, Karasuma and Robin hot on his heels, settling behind a bit of bushes as the witches all moved into the kitchen, talking and joking over the stove.

'

Amon reached for his gas gun when the sounds of Sakaki's laugher rose along with the others. He didn't want to harm Haruto. The younger male had been his colleague, his partner. The former hunter wasn't entirely sure if it came down to it that he could ever shoot Sakaki.

He gave a quick glance to Robin; she nodded.

The Craft user slipped her glasses into place and stood, concentrating. The girl focused her energy into one controlled burst, right at the glass, sliding doors. They exploded into a thousand pieces, shattered by the heat of her righteous flames. There were screams, shrieks of terror, but Robin had to ignore them. Amon jumped up and rushed, running into the room, gun drawn. Miho followed suit. Robin just walked in, as if she owned the place.

The scene inside was a mess. Glass shards lay here and there, scattered about and glittering. Smoke fluttered through the air, carried in by the breeze. The guns, swords, and knives had fallen, strewn across the floor. The others, the witches, Sakaki included, stood in the kitchen, a pale look of shock written across all their faces. Amon and Karasuma aimed, their guns sweeping across the group.

Robin just gasped at how young they seemed. The oldest, being the bartender from Nocturne, couldn't have been older than 35. The younger was probably but three years older than Robin, the red head with the curly hair. Despite her youth, the red head's face held the same age that Robin's did. They seemed so innocent, so young.

Haruto didn't give Robin any more time to contemplate their appearance; he stepped forward, his hands held up in surrender. "I know you've come to hunt me." The young man looked sadly to the witches gathered behind him. "I'll go quietly. Just leave them alone."

"I can't do that, Sakaki," Amon seemed to growl the words. "You know that."

Brett's fist balled. A burst of flame, a liquid tongue of fire leapt into the air from nowhere, circling Amon. The hunter flinched, holding his arm up against the flame, but stood his ground. He waited for a millisecond as Robin danced forward, seeing the fire elemental's energy flow towards her partner. The girl swiftly countered it, and a shower of sparks scattered over the man.

Brett just grinned, his fingers twitching and itching for action. "Ah, a fire starter."

"Witch…" Robin blinked.

As the others seemed to rally, ducking behind the counter, the girl steeled herself. She sent out a shot flame, exploding in Brett's face. The young man didn't move a muscle as he dissipated the energy right in front of himself. He gave a slight bow to Robin, teasing her deliberately.

Amon didn't waste a second. He took aim and fired at Brett before the young man could even have the time to react. Instead, another took action. This time, it was the burly Bear, who jumped up, throwing up his hand and a spike of energy at the same time, directly towards the witch killing bullet. The man with the goatee and dark, chocolate brown eyes stopped the bullet with a sharp bolt of telekinesis, sending the metal slug to a slamming halt right before Brett. The fire elemental gaped when the metal came into focus before him, just inches from his blue eyes.

"Thanks, Bear."

But another burst of flame ignited from Robin, recalling suddenly how these people had hurt Amon, how they stole Sakaki. Her fists tightened into hard balls of rage and fury. The counter exploded into white hot fire, snapping and popping.

"_How dare you!"_

The telepath's voice shrieked in Robin's mind, but the girl forced it from her mind. The Arcanum of the Craft activated in a flurry. A blinding, radiant, blue light fell over the teenage witch, engulfing her in a protective cocoon, enclosing Amon and Karasuma as well. The witches all surged up from behind the flaming counter, but their energy, their crafts, just bounced off the cocoon, flashing and blinking out of existence.

Robin focused intently on the fire elemental who had been so bold as to attack Robin. Rage flooded into the teenager as she hurled a bolt of pure flame at him. The fire elemental took hold of her flame with his own Craft, twirling it around himself, welcoming the fire and dispelling the energy.

Amon fired off a round of the witch killing bullets directly at another of the witches, the one Karasuma knew to be Kathain, but the girl just ducked out of the way. It was as if the girl had known exactly where and when to stand, and just how to move out of the way. Kathain just slipped an inch or two to the left of the bullet's path as it passed. The slug brushed against her coppery hair but did no damage.

Sakaki shook his head. He had seen enough. The hunter stepped out between the crossfire, directly between Robin and Brett as the two sent out streaks of flame, as Amon and Karasuma fired their gas guns.

"Stop!"

xxxx

For all those searching for a powerful Robin, happy? For all you one who wanted to see Brett become a bigger, baddy, more powerful person, happy? I'm done for right now. The reviews have been most fun.

I just found a shirt yesterday that I had to buy- "Lucky 13- Tattoo Your Soul." So, fyi, the next installment of this soon to be series will most likely be smart-assly labeled "Tattoo Your Soul." Be prepared, this is apparently turning into a much larger project that I had anticipated, complete with the upcoming prelude by NyKole Todd. I'll post more info on that later.


	17. Pretenses

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Stop!"

Sakaki shouted the word. It tore from his very heart and soul. Both Nycole and Karasuma had felt the rising wave of darkness in the man as his Craft awoke. Unfortunately for Karasuma, the other empath had known better that to stand out in the open. Her hand shot out, grabbing Kathain's shirt and dragging the precognitive to the ground. They plastered their bodies to the floor.

A wave of flame had burst from both Brett and Robin just before Sakaki jumped between. Both of the opponents gasped, reaching to pull the energy back within them or to just dispel it. Brett managed to successfully gain control of his flame, slamming the fire back, directly into his heart. Robin's exploded in a rain of fire.

It didn't matter.

"_Yes…."_

The voices of Sakaki's mind, the spirits who held him, spoke in approval as the man cut loose, fueled by his emotions, by his own fear and anger. His rage poured out, venting in one, tremendous wave. All those who stood, meaning everyone except for Sakaki himself, and the two girls huddled on the ground, were sent flying through the air. Amon, Karasuma, Bear, Raven, Geoff, and Kristo all slammed against the walls with horrific thuds and grunts. Brett and Robin were knocked to the floor. The terrible, yawning sigh that always followed such a tremendous burst of psychic energy pulsed over.

Instinctively, Robin leapt up, climbing to her feet as fast as she could, aiming her energy, her Craft at Sakaki. Then, the Craft user caught sight of him. Haruto sat, trembling, in a crumpled heap on the floor. His eyes had glossed over, staring into space. Robin cut her power short, letting the flames flickered out of existence.

"Sakaki!" Robin rushed to his side, placing a gentle hand on him, ignoring the black form crawling towards them from the corner of her eye.

The terrified man at her feet just whimpered. "No… I'm not like that. I'm not… a witch."

"No," she whispered. "You're not."

Amon scrambled towards his partner, the gun with witch killing bullets still in hand. Broken glass cut and stung at his arms as the man literally crawled over the bamboo floor, trying desperately to get to Robin as quickly as possible. The former hunter leveled his gun at Sakaki's heart before even sitting up fully.

"No." Robin just pushed Amon's arm down, taking his aim off Sakaki. "Don't. He's alright now." The girl wrapped her arms around Haruto. "Shh…"

Amon then turned his attention to the next problem. While Robin had been quite content to divert all of her focus on her fallen friend, Amon remembered the band of witches they had come to attack and rescue Sakaki from.

They were rallying.

Karasuma brought up her own gun just as Amon aimed upon the witches.

His low, deep, bass voice thundered over those gathered. "Do you know what these are?"

The witches didn't answer. The just stared. Some, the two red heads in particular, just looked curiously to the tall man in black who addressed them. Others just stared defiantly, waiting for their opportunity to attack. They didn't seem to hold any regard for the man who had dared to attack them.

Amon knew this for a fact when the witches awoke their Crafts. At Brett's hands, wisps of red flame danced, whirling around his moving fingers and around his arms. The heat seemed to comfort the fire elemental. The light bathed his slightly rounded features in a warm glow. White runes swayed and flowed over Raven's body elegantly. All around Bear, objects lifted off the ground, floating and levitating around the man threateningly. In Kristo's spot, the darkness pooled, growing dense and darker, moving as if alive. And Geoff? The air around him began to feet heavy, condensed, looming over the bartender. Amon almost had to stifle a laugh at the witch's defiance.

So many others had been just like them, proud and haughty to the very end, always saying that the STN-J hunters would NEVER be able to capture them. They ALL thought that. And, yet, not a one of them EVER got away. It was just a fact of life. Still, it was a common thought to all witches that they were truly omnipotent.

"These are witch killing bullets," Amon answered the question for them. "A whole clip of them. Seven bullets. One for each of you."

"You wouldn't," Brett snarled.

The hunter smirked. "Oh, but I would." He frowned. "Now. Return Sakaki to us."

Nycole tried not to giggle. "He could have returned at any time."

"Liar!" Karasuma shouted. "I have heard the voices in your head. I knew you've been forcing him to do these things." The woman squeezed the trigger to her gun, but didn't fire, yet. "He's not like you. He's not a witch. He's not…" Karasuma shook, her gun practically rattling in her hand. "You did this to him!"

Nycole's face fell. "Yes…. I did it."

Robin blinked. The telepath had just admitted it. Despite any doubts the teenager could have had, the lady just admitted it. But, she didn't seem smug and satisfied like Robin would have expected an accomplished telepath to be after controlling an STN-J hunter. Robin would have expected the telepath to grin wildly at the thought of running a hunter around like a puppet, helping witches. Instead, the red head looked sad, depressed and solemn even.

Haruto tried to wave a hand, but Robin caught it. "Shh…. It's alright. You're safe now."

"What did you do to him?" Karasuma demanded bitterly.

Nycole blinked back tears of her own. "I just showed him the truth. I opened up what was locked away inside of him when he needed it most." Whispers carried on the air from the girl's anger, hissing inside everyone's minds. "I helped him know who he is."

The female hunter felt her resolve waver. "And the voices?"

"Spirits…" Sakaki gasped. "They're spirits."

"Lies," Amon snarled.

Karasuma turned her gun to the telepath. "This is your work."

"No, it isn't," Kathain argued, standing up from where she had been crouched. "It's the truth. You…" She closed her eyes for a moment, as if losing herself. "You're empathic. You could tell if he was lying."

"I could tell if he thought he was lying," Karasuma responded harshly.

The precognitive smiled. "I hadn't thought of it that way. Smart cookie." She thought again. "Then look into me. You could tell if I was lying."

"Don't," Amon ordered. "It's a trick."

"BULLSHIT!" Nycole swore.

Even Sakaki seemed agitated. He struggled in Robin's hold, despite her gentle protests. The witch fought against the Craft user, successfully. Sakaki, as a person, was far stronger than Robin, and he quickly pushed her aside.

"Amon…" he blinked, trying to clear his vision. "Amon, don't."

Karasuma closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath as she did. Her gun fired with a small puff of gas. The tranquilizer dart shot out of the chamber, down the length of the barrel and straight into Sakaki's shoulder. He didn't feel anything after the sharp prick of the needle stabbing into his muscle.

Nycole's mental voice screamed over anything else. _"NO!"_

Amon swung around to take aim at the empath with his gas gun, but Robin jumped in front of him.

"No!"

"Robin," the man softened upon seeing his partner at the wrong end of the barrel of the gun. "Robin, get out of the way." Amon's eyes narrowed to tiny, dark slits. "Get out of the way."

The girl sniffed. "We have what we came for."

Nycole shook her head. "No. You're not taking Sakaki back to some STN-J prison, some Factory holding cell. I won't let you."

"Shut up!" Karasuma turned her aim to the other empath.

Things were getting worse and worse by the minute. Brett couldn't stand it any longer. He wouldn't see Sakaki thrown into the captivity of Solomon, or any other witch for that matter. That was why Nocturne had become a haven for witches. None of the band would allow that dreadful fate befall another witch. As long as the fugitive witch in question behaved, he or she could stay as long as they needed. It went against everything Brett believed in to allow these intruders to just up and take him away. The elemental wouldn't allow that for a normal witch, let alone a person who had become his friend. Brett's fire burned brighter and hotter.

"Shoot her and die," he ordered, balling a sphere of flame in one hand.

Amon turned his witch bullets on Brett. "Don't even think about it."

Geoff's wave of air rushed past Amon, fluffing up the hunter's ebony locks, just a taste of the bartender's power. "No, you don't even think about it."

Kathain spoke up. "Shh… everyone… just calm down."

All eyes turned to the precognitive, knowing full well who and what she was. Even Amon and Robin knew. Karasuma had been kind enough to tell them about the girl and her powers. They knew to listen while she spoke, for this creature held the mysteries of past, present, and future.

"Let them have Sakaki, providing he is willing to join."

Amon stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kathain's lips curled devilishly. "It means you wait for whatever was in that dart to wear off. But you, ALL of you, need to relax, and wait it out. If you can wait that long peacefully, and Sakaki so chooses, you can have him."

"That could take up to 24 hrs." Karasuma simmered.

"Then you have to wait 24 hrs," the precognitive responded.

Amon contemplated the offer. He had no choice, really. They were too evenly matched. Even with Robin, the hunters were outnumbered, badly. He couldn't guarantee the safety of the teenage Craft user, the empath, or the fallen hunter. In truth, Amon didn't like the odds of any of the possibilities presented to him. The words of her offer lingered over them, smothered all who stood in the room.

"You will take my offer," the precognitive stated simply.

The tall man turned, now aiming at the girl. "And who says that?"

The image of Amon, bound and bloodied flashed over Kathain's eyes. It overlapped the present, over the hunter who threatened to shoot her with a witch killing bullets. She could almost taste the copper of his blood from its mental stench, splashing up in metallic bursts in her throat. Kathain tried to ignore it, to swallow and force the taste from her palette. The scarlet liquid trickled down the side of his head from an unseen gash, but Kathain knew it was not truly there... not yet, at least.

"I say that. I know you will wait," the girl breathed.

Amon sighed. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I have seen your future. Your future is just as bound to us as Sakaki's. It is intertwined and interwoven, like many strands of string into fabric." Kathain's regal voice trickled into his ears. "You need us just as much as we need you."

"Explain."

xxxx

Happy Hanukah, NyKole Todd.


	18. Bones

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

They waited.

All of them. The entire band of renegade witches, along with the hunters. They sat, awkwardly, on the sparse, inadequate seating. Kathain and Nycole had elected to remain on the floor once it was spent and a futon brought out for Sakaki to sleep off the remainder of the tranquilizer.

Nycole was almost thankful that Karasuma had shot him. This meant Sakaki had the time to sleep and rest from his outburst. More meditation exercises with Brett would be required to help the man gain better control of his Craft. However, for the time being, Haruto could rest, regain his mental strengths and the energy needed to avoid another psychic outburst, unaware of the silent, still war raging around his body. Nycole sat at Sakaki's side, holding his hand sweetly.

Karasuma smoldered, thinking about the audacity the telepath had to sit and actually hold Sakaki's hand. That young bitch had owned up to doing this to Haruto. Nycole had even told them she did it, although in a roundabout manner. Still, she sat on her hands. Her gas gun, along with Amon's and all the weapons of the rest of those gathered, sat on the kitchen table, well out of reach from everyone.

The only thing anywhere resembling a weapon lay in Raven's skilled carpenter's hands. He worked with a look of chagrin, tacking up board and anything he could find over the hole Robin had blown through the wall. His pounding hammer was the only sound transgressing the weighty silence and nervous awkwardness.

Raven looked over his shoulder at the Craft user seated beside Amon and made one small attempt at humor, "One hell of an arm on you."

"Thank you." Robin fidgeted with the hem of her dress. "I think."

Raven just shrugged, giving up and returning to his work.

Amon eyed Kathain warily. She was exactly as Karasuma had described to him on the way out to the house. This was the seer, the oracle. Her eyes saw the past, the present, and the future. Her mind held the secrets of the universe, of Amon's own future. And she seemed so insignificant, so small, so fragile. Everyone's fates lay locked in her beating heart, tucked away for her knowledge only. If he asked, Kathain could divulge the secrets of his own destiny.

Kristo, meanwhile, studied the former hunter carefully, assessing strengths and weakness. It was an old habit of his. The man had spent years in the military, no matter which one, and the urge to accurately judge his quarry. Amon was a pure and good adversary, but he was no witch. The hunter stood no chance against the witches, and Kristo was well aware of that. Unfortunately, his katana lay on the other side of the home, on the kitchen table, and, with all the lights on, there were no shadows to walk through. He couldn't take a chance unless he could guarantee the other's safety, particularly that of Kathain and Nycole. The others had more active powers than the girls; they were vulnerable in their own ways.

Finally, Karasuma leaned close to Nycole, whispering to her, "You said you did this to him…." The woman sighed. "What did you do?"

The other empath didn't even look up. "I just…." She sighed. "He needed answers. He came to me looking for help." Nycole looked sadly to Sakaki, stroking his hair serenely. "I… I went into his mind, trying to sooth him. He had things locked up inside that needed to be let out. Insecurities. Fears." The girl blinked. "He asked me for the truth, to know who and what he really was, if he was a witch or not. He needed to know."

"Why?" Karasuma breathed.

Nycole blinked. "He got into this because of me. It's my fault." The girl looked to Kathain who gave a subtle nod. "I unlocked everything inside of him, just like he asked me to. I didn't want him to become a witch. I just wanted him to have the answers he needed." She let out a heavy sigh. "He awoke just after that."

"I see… And the voices?" the female hunter pressed.

Kathain piped up. "It's a part of his gifts. He can hear and speak with spirits."

"Oh…" Miho sat back in her chair, mulling over this.

The precognitive, however, stood. The entire group jumped, demonstrating just how on edge everyone remained. Their nerves were frayed, frazzled, and fried. And, yet, somehow, with one quick, soft look from Kathain, they sat back, relaxing slightly, but remaining on guard.

"I'm going outside." Kathain looked to Amon pointedly. "Join me, Amon."

He raised a curious eyebrow and stood, unsure of what exactly the girl had to say; Brett also jumped to his feet. "Kathain, what are you doing? You need to take one of us."

"Fine," she conceded with little argument. "But keep your distance." The little sprite of a girl smiled coyly at the hunter, who still bore a look of confusion and paranoia. "Amon and I have some talking to do."

Brett nodded slowly and walked out behind Amon and Robin, keeping a distance of at least twelve paces as the girl strolled out into the night. The gaping space between Brett and Kathain yawned and roared between himself and her. He wanted to just run up and join them, but the fire elemental had to respect the oracle's wishes. The young man could not bring himself to approach any closer.

He strained to hear their voices, but neither had said a word yet.

They just walked out of the house and into the dark. Somewhere, in the night, a lone bird called before settling. They moved together in unison. Amon and Kathain fell in step together, striding down the old wood path, towards the stream, to the sound of splashing and laughing water.

"Now, what is this all about, Kathain?"

xxxx

Robin waited nervously.

In the last year since the Factory incident, Amon had never left her side. He had never gone anywhere without the girl's knowledge, and Amon had never left her in a dangerous situation. This, was most certainly a dangerous situation.

However, the fact that Brett had left eased Robin's heart. The fire elemental had been eyeing the girl with a macabre delight. The Craft user felt sick under Brett's sharp, hawkish gaze, disturbed and unnerved by it. Robin wondered what exactly he thought of her, of his metaphysical match, and then some.

Sakaki stirred; Robin leapt towards him. "Sakaki…"

"Robin…" he was barely coherent.

The girl smiled warmly at him. "I'm here for you." She took the hand not in Nycole's and squeezed it. "I'm here to take you home. Do you want to go home?"

Dazed, as if drugged, Sakaki whimpered, "Yes."

Robin nodded. "Ok… we'll take you home."

"But…" Nycole protested. "You can't ask him that now. He's not of a conscious state of mind." The girl snapped angrily. "That's not fair."

"He wants to go home, let him!" Karasuma called.

"No!" Nycole shouted.

"He gave his answer," Geoff piped up. "Let him go."

xxxx

Amon had never seen a place just like that.

The stream felt calm, relaxing, refreshing even. The hunter let his guard down for a moment, before steeling himself again. He couldn't forget. The girl beside him was a witch, an oracle. And the boy who followed was a witch with fire craft that matched Robin's own man-made blessings.

The girl beside him seemed sad.

Amon sighed. "What's troubling you?"

Kathain glanced over, startled by the fact that the man had broken the silence. However, even there, along the calming banks of the stream, could she see the overlap of images. There, Amon still held the cuts and bruises of unimaginable, physical torture. His forehead was bathed in sweat and his own blood.

The girl kicked a pebble into the stream. "You don't want to know."

"Then why did you call me out here?" The former hunter demanded.

Kathain's heart fell; she had been hoping for more time to determine a better way to word the terrible truth. "Amon, ill fortune will befall you."

"Seems like trouble always follows Robin and myself. There isn't anything knew about that."

The girl bit her lip. "Not like that."

Amon raised an eyebrow, his curiosity now piqued. "What do you mean?"

Kathain crouched low, picking up a smoothly worn bit of quartz from the water. The little creek was a natural mineral deposit. Somewhere, maybe a ways upstream or even under their very feet, ran a massive load of quartz. Tiny bits of quartz were always washing up, rolled and washed smooth by years of water flow.

"You will be harmed, tortured, possibly killed even," the girl lamented sadly. "And it will be my fault."

"What are you talking about?" He inquired.

Kathain shrugged. "It's your future. I don't know." She calmly looked away. "I have seen what will happen to you; I know your future. Sometime in the future, both you and I shall be captured by unknown forces. You shall be tortured for information from me, things I don't know. They will hurt you, Amon. Badly."

"Why are you telling this to the person who attacked you and your friends?" Amon almost demanded the answer. "I would think you would be pleased by that."

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "I did, too."

"But…?" Amon led.

Kathain palmed the bit of quartz in her delicate hand. "I'm not sure. In my visions, every time I see it, I care about you. I don't want to see hurt like that." The girl handed her quartz to Amon. "We should be heading back to the house. Sakaki has woken up and made his choice by now."

"You knew it wouldn't take that long, didn't you?"

The girl shrugged. "Maybe." She looked to the path, to the form of Brett leaning against a tree maybe twenty or thirty feet away. "I needed to buy some time to at least tell you that."

"Why?" Amon asked.

Kathain just winked. "I thought I owed you that one."

xxxx

Hmm… I don't think I have any random commentary for this chapter. I think I'm just going to leave you wondering.


	19. Desperado

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Now, could you remove these?"

Amon almost shouted at Raven and Nycole as he gestured to the still glowing runes on his upper arm. The two glanced at each other mischievously. They had placed the runes in Nocturne as a curse. Anyone who dared transgress against the trust and sanctuary of the club would find the runes upon them as a mark of their sins. The worse the crimes were, the worse the burns inflicted would be. They could ruin a person's life. Teiwaz brought justice down upon the criminal, while Hagalaz followed it by terrible discord. Naudhiz, in the long run, constrained the criminal, dampening any Craft within the marked individual.

The curse, in Amon's case, had worked perfectly. Teiwaz brought justice. The former hunter found himself on the receiving end of their gifts. Hagalaz brought the discord of his life thrown into chaos by the members of the Nocturne staff. And Naudhiz? Amon's marks, his connection to Sakaki, and his destiny bound him to that ragtag band.

Sakaki had been roused and sent to shower, to get fully woken up and conscious. Once the young man left, led out of the room by Kathain, Amon had the opportunity to request the runes' removal.

Nycole folded her arms across her chest, still bitter that they were taking Sakaki to God knows what prison or jail. "What do you say?"

"Please…" Amon snarled, trying to regain composure. "Please, remove them."

The empath held an unusual expression of devilish glee at the thought of forcing the man to be civil and polite. "There you go. That was all you had to say." She pointed to a chair. "Now, sit, please." Amon did; Nycole sat next to him. "Be calm, and relax."

"I am calm," Amon lied.

"This will only hurt for a minute,"

xxxx

_Dark._

_The realm of Amon's mind was dark. Nycole could have laughed. It seemed so terribly fitting that the hunter's mind was that bleak and… well.. angsty was, perhaps, the best term for the mood. It was so melodramatic and dank. This was most certainly the mind of a man who tortured himself day in and day out._

Nycole wondered what about.

_She didn't have time for that, as the empath came across a towering, ebony monolith, inscribed with the burning rune marks. She sniffed. How Amon had trumped up the runes. The more dark, jealous, and fearful energy the hunter had placed in the runes, the more he threatened vengeance for the marks, the bigger the problem they became. Nycole greeted the monolith, built upon a foundation of her own energy. The light sparkled, calling to its master in welcome. _

"_Hey…" the empath whispered, almost sorrowfully that it was her work that brought such troubles to the group of witches. _

_Yet, it was Amon's fault. He had trespassed upon Nocturne, broke the peace treaty, and attempted the hunt them. He betrayed his own friend, Sakaki. He tried to hurt them, tried to kill them. She was surprised the rune marks hadn't burned through his arm and lopped off the limb by now. Nycole couldn't be nice to him, not at all. Nor could the telepath pity Amon for the punishment he received for his own crimes._

_Nycole dissipated the energy with a gentle, careless motion, and the monolith collapsed. She went to leave, but something caught her eye. A massive wall of blood, bone, and stone. Amon had walled something in, even within his own mind; Nycole curiously pondered what the hunter had found to be so evil, so terrible within his own heart and soul. Her own wonder got the better of the telepath as she wandered closer to the wall._

_There came a scream from the inside, shrill, yet masculine, like a young boy. In fact, like a young Amon. Nycole's blood froze nearly solid at the sound. A cold shiver rushed up and down the telepath's spine, from her head to her toes. _

_Nycole tapped her foot. "Ok… so here's the part where I make a choice."_

_The screams were muffled, dulling down to a whimpering, a sobbing and crying. The soul behind that wall sounded pained, in grief and sorrow._

"_To screw around, or not to?" the telepath weighed her options. _

_Ah, but the temptation was too great, even without her friend and usually partner in crime, Kathain. Nycole snickered to herself as she approached, knowing Amon deserved every bit of pain and torment she let loose from his own mind. _

"_Tear down the Wall! Tear down the Wall!" She chanted demonically._

_The telepath/empath turned her attention and entire focus on the looming fortress before her. She let loose her full powers, in white hot flame, flashing lightning, and snapping lions. Her energy tore away at the wall fiercely, despite the glimpses of sadness and evil that slipped through the cracks. Nycole vengefully ripped away at the energy, feeling the wall's structure fail. _

_It could never have lasted._

_Nycole was an atomic bomb. The wall was an anthill. Amon's shields stood no chance against the telepath. The fortress collapsed, shattering away. The empath smiled to her self and waltzed over the rubble of Amon's mental wall._

"_You shouldn't be here."_

_Nycole swatted the voice away. It was just Amon's own self defenses. The girl continued, deeper into the man's mind. The darkness swallowed her up, until Nycole found herself in an entirely different place._

_She was in an apartment, a small one by American standards, but a large one by Japanese standards. It was furnished nicely, obviously of a family that would be of upper middle class in America. Nycole couldn't tell on Japanese economic classes. A woman sat on the couch trembled, her black hair tossled in her face._

_Nycole tiptoed into the room. Broken glass stabbed at her suddenly bare feet. The empath gave a quick glance to the small cuts on the bottoms of her feet, but continued on. She ignored the woman, who was obviously an uncontrolled witch, newly awakened. Another appliance shattered, as light bulbs exploded._

_The scream of the boy came again._

_Nycole moved around the couch, looking to the closet. She slid open the door, and found a little boy, covered in blood and slashes. The boy threw his body back, into the far reached of the closet, which is to say, not too far. Nycole, at any other time, would have laughed upon seeing this childlike version of Amon, but the combination of her rage and sadness prevented the empath from doing so. _

_This was Amon._

_This woman, she was his mother. He couldn't have been much older than six, and he had to watch his own mother awaken, in a violent manner. And, judging from his wounds, the bulk of the woman's violence had been directed at the boy. Nycole choked back her sympathy, remembering who this man was and what he had down. She looked behind the six-year-old, spying a rectangle of light behind the boy._

_She hugged the boy, pulling him out of the closet and sitting him down on a chair. "Now, you stay here. You're ok now, ok?" The boy didn't answer; he obviously didn't speak English. Nycole sighed. "Why can't people make their subconscious representations easier to deal with?"_

_She turned away from the child and back to the closet, crawling in._

"_No," the boy called, proving her wrong._

_Nycole glanced over her shoulder. "So, you do speak English?" He nodded. "I'll be ok. I'm just going to look at something."_

"_You mustn't," the boy warned._

_The telepath grinned madly. "Oh, but I must."_

"_No!" he shouted. "You can't go in there!" The boy ran to her, grabbing Nycole's arm. "You can't!"_

"_Get off!" Nycole shouted. _

_The boy bit her in the arm sharply. Nycole shrieked in anger and pain, shaking the boy off her arm and slamming the closet door shut beside her. The six-year-old pounded on the outside of the door with his little fists but could not get in. Nycole checked her arm as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, spying the little, red, bite mark._

"_I'll remember that the next time I think about having kids," the girl sighed._

_She looked to the door. It was small, marked with strange glyphs that probably only made sense to Amon himself, and only when Amon was but six. This door. It had to be the right one. It had to be the one everything Amon kept hidden behind. Nycole licked her lips in anticipation, placing a hand on the small, wooden door and feeling the energy swelling behind it. _

"_Ah, Amon, the present I'm going to give you, you sonovabitch."_

xxxx

"There. Done."

Amon opened his eyes, immediately looking to the place on his upper arm where he'd been burnt. The runes had healed, leaving only faint, pink, raised scars where once smoldering wounds had been. He would probably always be marked by those symbols, a lasting reminder of the witches of Nocturne.

"Thank you," he replied, forcing his own manners.

Sakaki stumbled out from the bathroom and into the living room, dressed in clean clothes and showered. "Amon, Karasuma." He scanned the room, finding the third hunter. "Robin."

"Sakaki, come with us. It's time to go."

The man hung his head down, but nodded slowly. "I know."

"Sakaki!" Nycole cried out. "You can't." She hugged him, burying her head in Haruto's chest. "You can't just leave us, just go willingly to whatever they're going to do to you."

"I trust them," the man breathed. "Besides. I said I would go so long as they left you alone and unharmed." Haruto stepped free from her embrace. "I gotta make good on my word so they'll do so, too." The man looked to Amon. "I have to. I know Amon won't do anything to me that I didn't deserve."

The tall man didn't say anything in regards to that last bit.

"C'mon, Sakaki."

xxxx

Return to the STN? Separation? You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you? Alrighties- I'm tired, you'll just have to sit tight for another 24 hrs at least.


	20. Tower Card

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Amon, what about the others?"

Robin asked the question hesitantly as Sakaki trudged towards the door, lowering her voice so the man would not hear. Too bad she hadn't been quiet enough. Brett's keen ears heard the teenage witch from the other side of the room.

"Yes, what about the others?" he asked defiantly.

The former hunter studied those gathered. Robin had a point, a good one. All of that ragtag band who had borderline kidnapped Sakaki were powerfully dangerous witches. There was Nycole, the empathic telepath, with the power to sense people's emotions and thoughts, in addition to affecting them, speaking without words. Brett had demonstrated an amazing skill and control with flame. There was Bear who seemed to be telekinetic, and Geoff who held sway with the air and the very winds themselves. Raven held the ancient craft of a powerful _runemal_, a jack-of-all-trades so long as they regarded the old runes, it seemed. Amon wasn't entirely sure what the silent swordsman was capable of. And Kathain? Amon wasn't entirely sure if he believed in her supposed gift to see the future and all aspects of time.

Brett seemed to dance towards them, lilting on cocky steps. "What about us, Amon?"

The hunter fingered the trigger of his gas gun, resisting the urge to fire off a witch-killing slug right into Brett's chest. He knew he mustn't. If Amon pulled that trigger, he would have ignited another battle. For the moment, the witches seemed to be peacefully allowing Karasuma, Robin, and Amon to take Sakaki home, or, at least, to a safe location. Amon assessed the risk, looking to Nycole, Kristo, Bear, Raven, and Geoff. Even without Brett's fire craft, that band remained too powerful, still too evenly matched to Robin's Craft. Amon had Sakaki and no other reason to fight or take such a stupid chance. The man quelled his anger and annoyance at the snot-nosed punk before him.

"You are witches. You should be hunted." Amon squeezed his fists, straining to keep under control. "You will eventually be hunted if you keep attacking people."

"Attacking people?" Brett shouted. "That's bullshit, and you know it!" He sharply pointed at Amon. "The marks that ended up on you were a curse, magic only activated by someone's fucking around." The fire elemental's eyes seemed to flicker a dark flame. "You could only get marked by those if you breached the sanctuary of Nocturne, which you-" He slammed the finger into Amon's chest angrily. "Did."

"And the others?" Karasuma reached into her coat for the gas gun, but avoided pulling it out. "Did you attack them for the same reasons?"

Brett laughed. "The curse attacked them. A thief. A traitor. A mugger. A pickpocket. Two molesters. A would be rapist. A spy. And one dumb ass hunter who dared to attack us in our own home."

Robin blinked. "You…. You only acted out of self defense."

"Yes," the fire elemental snarled. "The marks only acted as a warning and wore off based off of the crime committed."

The teenager looked to her former partner. "Amon?"

"They are still witches," the hunter said point blankly, turning to the door.

Brett jumped in front of him, throwing a hand out to each side of the doorframe, blocking the hunter's path. "Remember this, Amon, for as long as you live- and I hope it's not fucking long if you're going to continue to be this idiotically stubborn- that we are PEOPLE before we are witches."

"That doesn't change what you are, now," Amon replied.

Brett chortled. "What? Look at us, Amon." The hunter gave a casual glance over his shoulder. "No! I mean look at us. REALLY look at us." The fire elemental actually went as far as to forcibly push the startled hunter. "Nycole. When she first discovered her gifts, she couldn't figure out whose emotions she was feeling, her own or someone else's. And, when she accidentally started to invade other people's minds, her family practically disowned her."

Karasuma flushed, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment shudder through her. Miho remembered what it had been like, how hard it had been to deal with her empathy and her ability to scry when it first surfaced. It had been hell, living hell, sleeping hell, waking hell, every sort of hell it could possibly have been. And her hell seemed endless. Everything Miho touched, everyone the woman came into contact with, sent uncontrolled shivers of emotions, for the good and bad, riveting through her heart and mind.

"Geoff used to shatter glasses whenever he got even the slightest bit pissed," Brett went on, pointing to his friend. "And Sakaki? When he first awoke, he couldn't even hear himself think. The spirits were too loud and just went in and out at will." Haruto looked down, ashamed, but knowing it was the truth. "The just wouldn't shut up. They still won't. But he's learning."

Amon turned to his former partner. "Is this true?"

"Yes." Haruto nodded solemnly, like a child caught misbehaving.

Brett gestured to Kathain. "Show him." She blinked. "Show him, please?"

The girl subconsciously felt at the edges of her arm warmers, as if afraid to take them off. Sakaki had never thought anything of them. Arm warmers were just an everyday part of goth apparel. They were like long gloves, with all of the fingers hacked off. All four of the fingers were cut together as one, while the thumb was cut off separately. In Kathain's case, she seemed to prefer these, made of black cotton, with a long line of eyehooks, like those on a corset, running up the side.

"Kathain, show them," Brett pleaded. It was no longer asking; it went beyond that.

Slowly, the girl slipped the gloves from her slender arms and held out her hands, displaying her wrists. Raised, white scars crisscrossed each of her wrists, slashed in various directions from many different angles. Some where deeper, while others were longer. Karasuma's heart, so vulnerable due to her empathic nature, bled for the young girl who had taken blades to herself so many times.

"When we met Kathain, she'd already tried to take her own life three times. Three times."

Robin shut her ears; she didn't want to hear the rest. "Stop…"

"No!" Brett's fire burnt brighter in his eyes, flashing within those blue spheres. "Since we've known her, she's tried four or five other times. I don't know…" The elemental shook his head. "I've lost count at this point. All because she had to watch terrible things before they happened, unable to do anything about it?" Brett got close, into Amon's face; the hunter could almost feel the heat of the elemental's breath upon him. "How do you think that is for her? To watch awful things happen to your friends?" The elemental's power rose; Robin?"

Amon frowned. "That does not condone a person's crimes."

"And you? Are you to be held unaccountable?" Nycole screamed. "You're going to take Sakaki away, to a place where people will do God knows what to him. You threaten us. And what?" The telepath snorted. "You're hiding a witch?" Nycole finally laughed. "Pot to kettle, you are BLACK!"

Amon had forgotten about the telepath/empath's little journey through his own mind. "That is none of you concern."

"Sonova-" Nycole snarled.

Kathain's voice cracked like a whip. "Enough!"

All eyes fell upon her. She was the slightest of all those attending, a mere whelp of a girl in the long run. She couldn't have weighed more than 110 lbs, but her words held the weight of the world. Kathain could stop traffic, war, time even with the merest of utterances. She was an oracle. It was her job to.

"Let them go," the precognitive ordered. Brett just blinked at her, but the girl said it again. "Let them go. They were going to leave peacefully, now let them leave."

"What?" Bear asked. "You can't be serious."

Kathain's hair stood on end. "I said let them go. This is not the way things should end… nor begin." Dread swirled within Robin at that last, cryptic statement. "Now, allow them to leave in peace and without any harm done to them."

Kristo gave the order, exerting his own authority, and it was followed. "Do it."

Brett shrugged and stepped out of Amon's way. The hunter strode out, never looking back to the startled little band of witches. Robin and Karasuma trailed behind him, their arms around Sakaki, trying to be comforting, but unsure really what to do. The witches stood still, frozen and locked in place by Kristo's law. They just stared in silence as the three walked down the drive.

Amon immediately took his place in the driver's seat as Karasuma climbed into the front passenger's seat, leaving the back to Robin and Sakaki. The younger man, Haruto, slipped into his chair and slouched down. Robin looked to him curiously, feeling a strange twinge in her heart, a sort of pang of sorrow. She wondered if Sakaki missed the people Amon had just forced him to leave.

"Sakaki…" she whispered.

"Leave me alone."

xxxx

"Kathain, how could you?" Nycole shouted at her friend, seething.

The precognitive raised her eyes, guiding her friend's attention to Kristo. The swordsman had taken his katana and his tonto in skilled hands, checking the blades before casting aside the sheaths. If he was right, Kristo wouldn't need them.

"What are you doing?" Nycole breathed.

The man brushed past her. "Going out."

"To do what?" At first, he didn't respond. "Kristo?"

He bolted out, into the night, into the dark and the shadows, enfolding them around himself and stepping into the deep, inky black.

"To get Sakaki back."

xxxx

Amon drove. He fell into the action of driving, letting each white stripe along the lanes bring the man some small comfort. Every six-foot line heralded another six feet away from that awful house and the people who lived therein. It felt better, easing both Robin and Karasuma as much as it did for Amon.

Sakaki, however, seemed to grow sadder and sadder with each passing mile. Karasuma glanced back at him, knowing the feeling was genuine. Sakaki truly missed them, missed those witches. His soul ached and cried out, reaching back for the supposed friends he had left behind. But Sakaki had gone willingly. No, for, as Miho thought back on it, Haruto only left the house to appease Amon and keep the hunter from harming the band. They had just forced him to leave his family.

"Sakaki…" Robin spoke softly to him.

"Leave me alone."

The teenager gaped before sitting back quietly, hurt by his anger.

Sakaki pondered what would become of him. Amon had taken him, but it wasn't as if the man could very well turn Haruto over to Solomon. Now, Miho, on the other hand, could have. She could have just handed Sakaki right over to whatever fate awaited. Even Amon didn't know exactly what to do with his former partner. Amon glanced back in the rear view mirror, checking on the male witch sitting in the back seat before returning his gaze to the road.

Something gleamed in the rear view for a moment. Amon ignored it, but he never should have. A blade cut through the darkness of the back seat, through the night and across the car, to the front seat, over Karasuma's throat, as another graced Robin's neck. Amon moved to slam on the breaks instinctively, but stopped himself before he could. If the man stopped suddenly, Karasuma and Robin would be thrown forward by their own inertia, cut in two by Amon's own foolishness and those shining, curved blades. A laugh broke out in the shadows of the car between Robin and Sakaki, where the blades seemed to stem from.

Kristo's husky voice bellowed in the night. "Let's talk, hunter."

xxxx

Didn't think I'd make it that easy for Amon, Robin and Karasuma? Of course not.


	21. Treatise

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

How quickly some plans fall apart. How quickly some strategies flutter and fall, dead by the time they land. At any other point, Robin would have loved to ponder the Bible's words on such a subject and the Lord, God's will. In all her years in Italy, Robin Sena never found a more perfect matter of discussion, debate, and contemplation, especially not granted her lot in life. Even after the incident with the Factory, and all her months in training with Amon, Robin continued to meditate on the matter at great length, wondering why exactly the Lord would place her upon this earth and what purpose she was to serve.

Now, however, was not the best time to think about such things. Not with such a well honed blade just millimeters from her throat. No, a better thing to contemplate was whether or not Robin was at peace with her life, herself, the world, and her God. The finely sharply tonto could, and would, slice through her neck and arteries with slight effort and a swift slashing motion, ending her life in a matter of moments. Any other person would have been praying at that moment, thinking back on their life and memories. Robin was not most people.

Instead, her thoughts revolved around how everything fell apart in a second as Kristo passed from the shadows and into the back seat of Amon's car, armed and ready for action. Robin thought only of that, swallowing hard and feeling the lump in her throat pass under the cool metal blade. The momentary, lapsing question of whether the actual cut would be hot or cold, or both flashed over her mind, before her thoughts returned to the sadness at the swift decline of their plot to save Sakaki.

"Let me make this perfectly clear, so there can be no arguments," Kristo began, crooning the words with menace. "I can kill all of you and shadow meld before this car crashes. So everyone just relax, and we'll just… talk."

Amon steadied himself, concentrating on both the road and the assassin in his back seat. Kristo remained half in and half out of the shadows, ready at any moment to dive back into the darkness and the safety of the night, leaving his victims behind helpless, able to jump to any dark location. The deadly edge his katana lay across Karasuma's neck, while he held the tonto over Robin. The blades looked sharp, honed by a craftsman's skill hands, the hands of a master swordsmith. They probably could have cleaved a person in two with one, swift strike.

"Keep driving," the swordsman sang, as if reading Amon's thoughts.

"What did you come here for?" The former hunter demanded, glaring back momentarily in the rear view.

Kristo smirked slightly. "To make a deal."

"I don't make deals," Amon responded in a harsh tone.

The man with the blades shrugged in a small gesture. "You do now."

"What makes you think that?"

Robin's heart leapt up, thumping in her throat just beneath the razor sharp edge of the tonto. She whispered a silent prayer that her life be ended quickly and painlessly if it was her time, and that God grant her the peace of eternal life in Heaven. The teenager asked His forgiveness for her sins and swallowed hard. The blade dug in to her flesh a bit, letting loose a drop of blood, rolling down her neck with a strange warmth.

Kristo gave a sly glance down the length of his katana to Karasuma. "Seeing as I've got your lovely friends at the end of my little knives, I think you had better listen good to this deal." He turned his sight to Robin, eyeing the girl devilishly. "And seeing how I know about your secret."

"What secret?" Robin gasped.

Kristo gave a small wink to her, grinning. "I know you're a witch, and I know Solomon's been looking for you." The blade moved across Robin's neck, trailing over her skin. "I know who you are, what you look like, who you spend your time around. As long as I know what you look like, I can find you through the shadows. And I know you're being as hunted as we probably are."

"Make your point," Amon barked, angry that the swordsman would have dared to invade his car and threaten his friends.

The man with the blades cocked his head to one side almost playfully and mockingly at the same time. "You and your little friend, here," Kristo nodded in Robin's direction. "You need as much of a place to hide as we do. We know about you; you know about us." The man glanced to Sakaki. "Let Sakaki go. We, for our part, will protect you and keep your secrets so long as you do the same for us."

"What if I don't agree to your offer?" Amon argued.

Kristo looked to Sakaki. "I don't think you have any choice. I can kill you, your lady friend, and your little fire starter before I take Sakaki back into the shadows with me. So, really, your choices are death or the deal?"

"And what's my guarantee that you won't kill us tomorrow?" Karasuma asked.

The swordsman shook his head. "No guarantee. Just my word." He grew serious. "And my word is my law." Amon sniffed, almost rolling his eyes. "I would be taking your word on this, too." Amon didn't answer. "And I'm sure Brett can give your fire starter a few pointers on control and subtlety."

Amon thought for a moment. He had no other choice. At least, no options he truly liked. "And you'll protect Robin?" Kristo nodded. "What of Karasuma?"

"She can do whatever the hell she goddamned pleases," Kristo responded honestly. "She's not being hunted like you, this one here, Sakaki, or any of my friends and I. She can just go back to her life, or hell, or whatever she wants, I don't really care." The man sighed. "I just care that the others are safe."

"Deal."

xxxx

They sat in silence.

Kathain kicked a pebble over the stone sparring ring in between Brett's feet as he walked. The fire elemental strolled the outer edge of the ring, following the thin carvings etched in the rock slab. Dragons spun and dove along the mist, curling and winding around one another, snapping with sharp teeth and deadly talons. Brett tiptoed over each of the snarling creatures in the design, pacing uneasily.

He couldn't believe Kristo had gone after them.

Geoff sighed. "You didn't think you could stop him, did you Brett?"

"No."

The awkward silence persisted.

Kathain looked to Nycole, who sat looking rather sadly at the smoothly worn stone; the precognitive put an arm around her friend. "Don't worry. Everything will be alright. I promise."

"You promise?" Nycole raised a hopeful eyebrow. "Promise, promise?"

Kathain knew what the girl asked when she nodded; Nycole had been hoping Kathain had seen it. "I swear to you. They'll be back."

Sure enough, the front door creaked open. The others, who had been sitting in the back of the house, jumped. Nycole leapt to her feet and ran, scampering through the house on bare feet, rushing to the front door. She lunged at Sakaki, throwing her arms around the former hunter.

Kathain just walked up behind her, giving a nod of respect towards Kristo as he entered. The swordsman didn't say a word, just continuing into the home. He paused for a moment to reclaim the sheathes to both his katana and tonto. The man silently moved to the wall of the main room, giving a small regard to his weapons before placing them on the hooks on the wall. His fingertips slipped over the hard wood of the sheathes, respecting the blades.

"Thank you, Kristo," Nycole whispered.

The warrior shrugged. "Whatever."

Brett looked to the others who entered. Amon and Robin. Karasuma had taken Amon's car back to her home, However, now, the former hunter and the Craft user remained, and looked like they were planning to stay. The fire elemental's muscles tensed as flames rose up his arm.

"Hold," Kristo ordered tersely. "They're here peacefully." Brett nodded, knowing Kristo would never place them in harms way. "We have a deal."

For the next few hours, Robin sat and met them, while Amon patrolled the grounds, going his separate way from Kristo. While the two men moved across the property, scouting and keeping watch, the others worked to start cooking the dinner that the intrusion had so rudely interrupted. Robin sat at the counter while Nycole and Kathain laughed nervously, stirred spaghetti sauce, trying desperately to be normal even with the Craft user stranger.

They seemed so close, like family, even Sakaki. Robin had to admire that. They were so utterly different, so unique and unusual, but they were drawn together by fate, destiny. Despite their differences and problems, the band of witches had formed a family. The teenager almost wished she and Amon could have been so close.

Robin looked to the two girls as they joked about something. "Um…. So… you are all witches?"

"Yup," Kathain answered honestly; Nycole jabbed her elbow into Kathain's ribs. "What?" The precognitive looked around to the room, as all eyes went to her. "It's not like we have anything to hide. I mean, c'mon." Nycole folded her arms across her chest. "If they're going to be staying with us for any extended time, we should probably just be honest with them from the get go."

"Fine."

They returned to the evening meal, as introductions went all around. Robin laughed at their jokes, easing up slightly but keeping her guard up, especially under Brett's scrutiny. She prayed this stay would be only a temporary situation. She started when the fire elemental spoke directly to her.

"So, Robin, what kind of movie's you like?"

xxxx

Amon watched from a distance as Robin seemed to be getting to know the others. He refused to even attempt to find friendship or companionship with the witches who dared blackmail the hunter. The witches would not find solace or comfort in Amon. He stepped back, ready to return to the home, only to feel cold steel press into the base of his neck.

"Kristo…"

The shadow walker grinned. "The one and only."

"What do you want?" Amon snarled..

Kristo grinned. "Only you, Amon. And your blood if you ever, EVER hurt any of the others." The former hunter didn't react at all. "You lay a finger on any of them, and I will crush you. I will see you ripped apart… literally."

"I figured as much."

Kristo nodded. "Fine then." He pulled the gun back and returning it to the holster. "As long as you get that."

Amon whirled out his gas gun, and Kristo drew his pistol again at the same time, drawing at the same time. "As long as you understand the same thing."

Kristo chuckled menacingly as he stepped back, into the shadows. The man fell away as the darkness seemed to condense and pool. The shadows swallowed the swordsman up, concealing him. Amon squinted, trying desperately to see Kristo in the deep, dark black of the night, but the man was gone.

"As long as we have an agreement, Amon."

xxxx

Happy? All's well that ends well and all that crap…. Nah… not in my dillusional realm.


	22. Uneasy Truths

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

The days blurred into a first long week with the witches. Robin tried desperately to be social and polite, as friendly as she could to their hosts. Amon, on the other hand, kept as much distance as humanly possibly between himself and their captors. Yes, for that was what the witches truly were. Try as she might to see otherwise, the witches had taken them hostage, holding the pair captive in that house.

Robin never felt so free, nor so confined in her entire life. She was a lioness, kept in a zoo. While the girl had everything she could have needed and the ability to roam free, Robin couldn't leave the home. The freedom remained a harsh illusion, marked by Kristo's continued patrolling of the perimeter. She tried to grin and bear it, make the best of the situation.

Robin tried her best to make friends. Nycole and Kathain seemed the most open and welcoming. Hell, Kathain was only four years older than the teenager, and Nycole, only seven. The two giggling red heads were the closest thing Robin could have to friends in that prison. Especially when she found out just how caged the two of them felt. While Robin's pseudo-captivity had lasted but a week, the rules and laws of the witches had bound the two girls since they came to Japan from Atlanta. The Craft user almost pitied the pair, trapped by honor and vigilance.

And, for every step closer to the others Robin took, Amon took a step further away, both figuratively and physically. His perimeter sweeps grew larger and wider, opening with each passing day, and lengthening time wise. And, for however hard the former hunter tried, he always ended up passing Kristo's glaring form, skulking about the dark, wood paths. Somehow, damn him, the shadow walker always seemed to know exactly where Amon trespassed in the lonely night.

Escape no longer seemed an option by the fifth day.

Sakaki, for his part, seemed to grow closer, welcomed back by what seemed like family. Robin's heart melted slightly at the thoughts. No longer did she think the telepathic Nycole had brainwashed or "Jedi-mind-tricked" Sakaki. No, after his reactions in the car and his behavior around the witches, it was clear Haruto found family and comfort in these strange foreigners. Robin couldn't hate the witches, nor could she hate Nycole for awakening the man. In fact, she had to admire that ragtag band for taking in an unstable, newly awoken witch, harboring him from the STN-J and Solomon, and still finding the time for fun, games, jokes, and more family like activities.

And Nycole?

Robin definitely couldn't hate the empath when she saw the red head leave the house on the sixth day with Sakaki not far behind. The teenage Craft user had followed, keeping at least thirty feet of distance between herself and the pair. She watched, curiously, as they wandered the paths in the daytime, down to the stream and sat on the rocks.

Robin crouched low behind a bush, staring in amazement.

The two meditated. At first, it seemed like nothing, just an average, everyday activity. Robin had seen the Buddhist monks of Tokyo's temples and even priests of Rome's grand cathedrals meditate all the time. However, after no more than a few moments, it changed. Nycole seemed to open up, and waves of energy cascaded from the empath towards Sakaki, warmly glowing in the morning light. Sakaki welcomed them, pulling them around his own form. Robin studied the pair in awe as Nycole's Craft seemed to ease him.

Finally, the empath stopped, snapping her energy back into herself. "Robin, you can come out now."

"What?" the girl stammered.

Nycole looked directly at Robin's hiding spot. "You can't hide from an empath; we can always feel you coming."

The teenager gave a nod and approached slowly, careful of her dress on the thick underbrush. "I should have known better, then." Robin's thanks her when she stood, stretching out the muscles. She stepped lightly onto the stone as Nycole bade her to come closer. "I guess it comes with your Craft"

"It does," the telepath replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

The three sat, bathed in the sun. Robin gave quick glances to Sakaki. He seemed… he seemed better, oddly enough. The Craft user had to admit it. Whatever Nycole had done put the man at a comfortable ease in life, relaxed. His own Craft even seemed quelled and appeased. The meditation served Sakaki well, as had whatever Nycole had done.

"It's focused, emotional meditation." The telepath paused, sensing the curiosity to Robin's inquiring mind. "Brett's a bit more intense of an instructor than I am, but it's working. Basically, it's trying to get him to allow him to use his fear as a trigger without him being the fight-or-flight stage." Nycole explained matter-of-factly. "We've been working on better controlling his emotions so his Craft won't erupt as violently or as uncontrolled."

Robin smiled at Sakaki, almost proudly. "How is it working?"

"I have my good days and my bad days," the man admitted.

Nycole gave Haruto a playful nudge. "Soon, there'll be nothing but good days."

xxxx

"Don't get close to them."

Amon snarled the words to himself. He had seen everything of that incident. He had watched from afar as Robin spoke with Nycole and Sakaki. The man instinctively felt protective over the teenage girl, ready to fight at a moment's notice, but neither seemed to be attacking. And neither even attempted to sway Robin to their side. They spoke as if the strange little hostage situation wasn't even happening.

In the end, somehow, Nycole had even gotten Robin to shuck off her shoes and play in the stream with her, searching for bits and pieces of quartz. Amon reached into his pocket, pulling out the small quartz pebble Kathain had given him that first night. The hunter pondered if what the supposed precognitive had said was true, if he would suffer a cruel and terrible fate because of her. Amon shook his head; the man didn't believe in premonition and superstition, and especially not the inane babblings of a 20 year-old girl.

Amon's fist tightened over the pebble fiercely. No. He didn't believe. Kathain's little stunt by the stream had probably only been a façade. The girl probably did it just to try to get into Amon's good graces. It was a ploy, nothing more, a simple game to make the witches look like they were good and decent people. Amon knew better.

"Amon…."

Speak of the devil, the precognitive slowly walked up behind him, snapping twigs as she moved closer to Amon.

The hunter didn't turn. "What is it, Kathain?"

"I…." The girl trailed off, looking down the hill to where Nycole and Robin played in the stream as Sakaki watched. "I just wanted to apologize."

"For what?"

Kathain skirted the subject deftly. "Just for what happened." She knelt beside Amon, bowing her head in a show of respect and holding out a little, steaming bowl of tomato soup. "I remembered I didn't know how to make miso…. Then, I remembered I didn't know if you liked miso."

Amon furrowed his eyebrows, taking the white bowl from her hands. "Thanks."

Kathain rose, bowing again slightly. The girl hadn't quite gotten used to the customs and manners of Japan. She had always seen people bowing in movies, at the drop of a hat sometimes. The girl just assumed it was common practice. If Amon were any other person, he would have laughed and laughed heartily at her foolish assumption, just like most other foreigners and tourists traveling to Japan. Instead, a tiny smirk graced his lips.

"What's so amusing?" The precognitive placed a hand on her hip.

Amon gave a nod of his head in her direction. "You don't have to bow all the time."

"Oh…" Kathain grew quiet, her voice dropped with embarrassment. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry." The girl practically blushed. "I just thought it was what you do when… I don't know." The hunter shrugged but didn't respond. "What? Still don't trust us?"

"I don't trust anyone who takes me hostage."

The precognitive giggled. "Amon, don't you understand?" He didn't respond. "You aren't being forced to stay here."

"Could have fooled me with Kristo acting like he does," the hunter growled.

Kathain sighed. "You have to understand Kristo. He means well. He just doesn't want to see any of us hurt." The girl toyed with her hands, picking and prodding at a bit of dirt caught under her fingernails. "He wants to make sure we're safe and that our gifts don't fall into the wrong hands."

The precognitive stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder but jerking it back suddenly with an electric spark; Amon spun around as Kathain stepped back, a look of horror on her face. "Kathain?" The girl shook her head, her mouth opening a silent scream. "Kathain…" She settled under Amon's concerned gaze, refusing to look him in the face. "You have seen it again, haven't you?"

The precognitive bit her lip and nodded. She finally glanced up to the man for a moment. The image of Amon bloodied and battered haunted her, overlapping with the reality of the man crouched before her. The girl could almost hear his soft cries of pain and torment. On his face, blood streaked down, mixed with sweat. Yet, Kathain knew this not to be the real Amon, just an image of what could happen to him.

"_Don't give in, Kathain. Don't."_

"Yes," the girl whispered, scratching at her scars through the fabric of her armwarmers.

Amon caught the motion in the edge of his vision, reaching out and grabbing her hand sharply. "Don't." Kathain looked into his eyes in shock, but Amon's steely gaze remained. "You don't know for certain that it will happen."

"Nothing is predestined," the girl murmured.

"Nothing."

Down at the house, Bear was calling everyone in for the grill cheese sandwiches that went with the soup.

xxxx

On the morning of the seventh day, Kathain awoke with a start in the dusky, predawn twilight. The house was silent, save the gentle breathing of all those asleep, sprawled across futons on the floor and the few couches. A shadow moved past the door as Kristo and Brett finished their perimeter check.

Kathain rolled over to go back to sleep and jumped, badly.

A dark form lay beside her, with raven black hair mussed from sleep. He was on the next futon over, just close enough for the girl to see him even with her sleep-blurred eyes. It was common practice just to push the futons together on the bamboo floor, maximizing the amount of sleeping space, so that wasn't too unusual. His chest rose and fell calmly, as the man slept on, unaware of the blue eyes upon him.

"Amon…" she whispered.

He didn't open his eyes; instead, Amon spoke softly. "I'm sorry." He sounded sheepish, like a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "It was the last open futon."

Kathain nodded. Brett and Kristo had been platonically sharing that futon, much as the precognitive shared a futon with Nycole. When the pair rose to take the early morning shift keeping guard, it must have freed up the futon.

Still, it mildly surprised the girl. For six nights, Amon barely slept, catching a wink or two whenever he could while out patrolling the grounds. The hunter spent as little time as possible actually in the house. The home and the close proximity to all the other witches seemed to repulse Amon. It shocked Kathain slightly that he dared enter the house when it was not required and startled her that Amon actually chose to sleep, to let his guard down and be vulnerable.

"It's alright," Kathain breathed.

The hunter cracked open an eye at the girl as she burrowed herself deeper under the comforter. "I can go if you're uncomfortable."

"No…." The word came as an exhausted whimper rather than an actual request. "Stay."

Amon stayed.

He would stay there, on that futon, for the night. And the night after. And the night after that. Amon would stay with that band of witches, trusting them more than the witches seemed to trust him. Only Kathain put her faith in Amon.

But it was something the man could deal with.

xxxx

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made you out of clay. –Sorry, that was for NyKole Todd


	23. Stalking Birds

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

After a few weeks, Miho finally had to answer to Kosaka about the failed hunt of Haruto Sakaki. The empath dreaded having to go in that morning and admit that Sakaki slipped through her fingers and that all of her suspects from Nocturne had gotten away. Two failed cases.

At first, Kosaka just seemed disappointed at the thought of losing Sakaki to the witches. Haruto had been a loyal and able hunter, giving all he could to the STN and to his partners. Haruto worked hard, trusting in the STN and their mission. Kosaka was mostly depressed by the saddening fact that they could not reclaim Sakaki. He regretfully informed Solomon while Karasuma sat in his office.

It was the Solomon representatives who grew angry, demanding to know what happened to the precognitive. Karasuma raised her eyebrow at it but maintained her composure. She listened with open ears as the Solomon representatives chewed her out for making such foolish mistakes as allowing the band of witches and the precog in particular to get away. Karasuma hung her head down, feeling rather like a child chastised for breaking the window with a baseball. And Kosaka held the baseball in question over her head the entire time, waving the hunt file over her, getting aggravated the more the Solomon representative shouted.

In the end, Karasuma slunk out of the office while Kosaka tried to patch things up between the STN and Solomon.

"That didn't sound too good," Michael greeted as the woman slumped in her chair.

Karasuma waved her hand, swatting the statement away. Michael shrugged, pulling on his headphones and continuing to work; Miho obviously didn't want to talk. She didn't need to hear it, especially not from the hacker. The question burned in her brain. The hunt had been called on Haruto Sakaki, ordering that the former STN agent be brought to the custody of Solomon. Yet, so much interest seemed to focus on the supposed precognitive. Karasuma wondered…. She wondered why exactly the hunt had been called and so forcibly followed.

"Michael?" The name felt frail and distant from her body.

Somehow, the hacker heard it under the slamming music. "What is it, Miss Karasuma?"

"I need all the information on the Sakaki's hunt."

xxxx

"Good, good."

Robin flushed. It was the first she'd heard praise from anyone in regards to her Craft. Even for all the many times Robin's fire had saved both Amon and herself, the former hunter never seemed to hold any regard for her abilities. Yet, strangely, Brett was the perfect teacher, better than any of the trainers in Italy from Solomon. He remained calm and understanding for each any every minutes of every lesson, for however short or long they stretched.

And Robin found herself excelling. Yes, the girl was an all-powerful witch, but the teenager lacked control and finesse. Brett forced her to focus, just as he had learned. Initially, Brett's gifts manifested in small, tiny sparks. Lighting a candle, in the beginning, had been nearly impossible. The fire elemental took Robin back to the start, back to the very beginning of learning how to control a gift.

Amon just sat on the steps of the porch, watching.

Brett set out several candles in a row on the sparring stone at the end of their session that day. "Light the candles." All at once, they flickered to life at random. "No." Geoff smirked from where he stood; the bartender gave a wave of his hand, sending a breeze blowing out all of the candles. "I want you to light them one at a time, alternating." Robin licked her lips, thinking about how easy it would be, until the young man added a new stipulation. "With one flame."

Amon raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry," Nycole called from behind the former hunter. "Robin will do just fine. Brett's just pushing her control, seeing what she can do."

The girl ignited a small flame on the first candle. It lingering there, as if Robin was trying to figure out exactly what Brett spoke of. Then, a tongue of liquid fire leapt from the first candle, springing over the next and landing on the wick of the third candle, lighting that one before moving on to the fifth candle and so on. At the end, the flame jumped backwards and lit the remaining candles in exactly the same way.

Brett nodded in approval. "I would have done something a little prettier, but good." He looked up to Robin. "Now, put them out."

"What?"

The fire elemental leaned close to her. "It's a simple part of your gifts." He laughed. "I mean, c'mon, what's making fires-" a ball of flame opened in the air before the girl's face- "If you can't control it." The ball extinguished itself with a puff of smoke. "It's easy. Just think."

"Think?" Robin looked to the elemental curiously.

He gave a nod. "Think."

The girl paused, chewing on her lip. "When a witch uses his or her Craft, they are sending out a burst of their own energy towards the object or objects they wish to affect." Brett stepped back, nodding at her thought process. "Reversing the process, pulling the energy back, would take away from the effect."

"Yes."

Robin blushed. She'd been so foolish. The girl had done it so many times; she'd just never thought about it. It was so simple; the control was right in front of Robin so long as she concentrated and focused on the desired effect. Even as Robin mused on the subject, the flames shortened, starved for energy, and died out, all at the exact same time. The Craft user had excellent timing before with her flames, but never PERFECT timing.

"See, simple," Brett informed her, kicking aside each of the candles. "Learning to run before walking makes learning to walk easier."

Amon watched as they turned to the house, everyone going back inside. He grabbed Kathain's wrist as she passed, holding her while the others all filed back inside. The precognitive drew in a sharp gasp, suddenly worried from the merest of touches from the man. She heralded his doom with each passing step, each little intake of breath and beat of her heart. It was somewhat hard to just live with him, and, so, instead, Kathain had been trying her best the past few days to just make Amon's life- whatever was left of it- as comfortable as possible.

"_Don't tell them."_

"Amon-" The word seemed but a husky exhalation.

_They were injecting her with something. She wasn't entirely sure what, but the needle stung as it entered her flesh. Liquid fire poured into her veins, flowing through her body like lava. She struggled, but furred, leather cuffs held her. She didn't have the strength to really fight, anyway. The world blurred, but her focus remained somehow. _

"_What…. What was that?"_

The hunter pulled her back slightly, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Kathain blurted out, trying to shake his hand free and force the vision from her mind. At first he held tighter, but the girl tore her hand from his grip out of terror.

Amon forgot her gift and the vision. "I'm sorry about last night."

"You shouldn't be…" the girl sighed. "I'm the one who should be sorry." She turned away, heading up the steps, her hand brushing the wood post. "In just a few short weeks, your life will be ruined because of me."

"What?"

The precognitive barely looked over her shoulder. "They're getting worse, Amon. More details. More information."

"And that means?" Amon inquired.

"That it's getting closer."

xxxx

"Miss Karasuma?"

The empath glanced up from her computer to Michael. The hacker held a newly organized manila folder, filled with freshly printed papers, still warm from the machine. The ink had only barely dried on them before Michael threw the packet together and readied it for Karasuma.

"I have that information you asked for," Lee announced.

Karasuma took the folder and flipped through it, giving quick glances over the files. A printed photo fell out, landing face down on the floor. Miho looked curiously to the paper, bending over to pick it up. As soon as her fingers touched the paper, a sense of dread washed over the empath. Slowly, hesitantly, Karasuma picked the photo up and gasped.

"Michael, where did you get this?" Miho whispered.

The hacker shrugged. "Solomon's database."

"I have to go…"

xxxx

Karasuma sped away from Raven's Flat, a tiny trail of smoke puffing up with the squeal of her tires. The car hugged the turns, slamming into them as Karasuma gunned the gas, pressing down with a lead foot on the pedal. She needed to get away from the STN. She needed to get to Amon, Robin, and Sakaki.

It didn't matter who the witches were anymore, or what side they served. If Karasuma was right, they were doomed. Solomon was probably closing in as she drove. The woman knew it had taken long enough for herself to find Solomon's data. Who knew when it was compiled? Who knew if Amon and Robin were still alive and well after this?

Karasuma had to get to them, and fast.

The trees flew past along with building and road signs, but not fast enough. She glanced down to the speedometer, pushing the car far harder than ever before.

"C'mon, c'mon."

xxxx

They sat around the table that night. It had been nine days precisely since Robin and Amon joined the witches, even if it had been by force at the end of Kristo's blades. Food was passed about. Robin seemed welcomed, while glares and dirty looks flashed in Amon's direction still.

Amon sighed. They didn't trust him. Nor would they ever. The former hunter knew this. It didn't matter who he was or how altruistic he acted towards the witches; Amon would always be an enemy. Amon had been a hunter. He dared to attack the witches, to threaten them and attempt to kidnap a friend in their eyes. Amon could never truly find forgiveness. At least, it would be exceptionally difficult to find welcome among that band of witches.

The only person who seemed to welcome Amon was Kathain, and that remained purely because of the fact that the girl felt responsible for whatever cruel fate would befall him from her actions. The precognitive smiled at him slightly as she passed a bowl of mashed potatoes across the table towards Amon. He took it and gave a small nod.

All seemed at peace.

That peace was shattered the moment the door burst open with Karasuma running into the house.

"You need to get out of here! NOW!"

xxxx

Why does everyone think something's going to happen between Kathain and Amon? I mean, she's just attempting to atone for sins she hasn't committed yet.


	24. Nevermore

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

"Karasuma!"

Amon stood abruptly, staring curtly at the woman who ran through the spartan home towards the table. He rushed over to her as Karasuma panted, trying to calm herself and catch her breath.

"What is it?" He asked.

Instinctively, Kristo crossed the room, taking up his katana and tonto in a flurry of motion, feeling the shadows outside with his dark Craft. The others, upon seeing the sudden action in Kristo, reached for their own arms. The swordsman shook his head at the lack of preparation in all of them. They had gotten sloppy and allowed themselves to be caught off guard. An agent of the enemy, the STN, had just run into their home without any problems. They had grown too relaxed in those days where they should have been far more careful, more vigilant.

Amon, however, didn't seem to notice the sudden arming. "Karasuma, what is it?"

The woman hurled the file at the table. It fell open, scattering papers and photographs across the hardwood. Photos of the group. Photos of Kathain in particular. The files were filled with documentation and evidence of the group. There was paperwork from America even. The folder seemed to contain the entire history of the group, or, at least, what they hadn't been able to cover up. Somehow, damn them, Solomon had managed to find them, even in Japan, even hiding out as best they could.

"What is this?" Kathain breathed as the world spun around her, but, at first, Karasuma didn't answer. "What is this?"

The empath shouted back, no longer holding her tongue out of politeness, knowing this was no time for niceties. "You tell me!" The woman rifled through the papers, pulling out choice documents and slamming them down. "All of this, all focusing on you, on whatever the hell you are." Karasuma smoldered, wondering what sort of trouble the witches had dragged Amon and Sakaki into. "What in the hell is all of this?"

"He's betrayed us," a male voice pointed out; no one seemed to notice or care who.

Brett turned to Amon, rage fueling a deep fire within. "Did you, Amon?" He didn't need an excuse to hate the hunter, but this helped. "Did you turn us in?"

"No," the man honestly answered.

"Then how in the hell did they find out about us?" Brett demanded gruffly. "Look at these." He drew up a photo in one hand, of Nycole and Robin playing the stream just a few days before. "This, this is here!" The fire elemental cast the photograph down onto the hardwood floor in disgust. "Did you lead them here, Amon?"

The hunter sighed, resigned to answer honestly. "We may have. I can't be sure."

"Damnnit," Geoff swore harshly, throwing his hands up over his head. "Great. Just great. Could anything else go wrong?"

Right as Geoff asked that, the lights flashed out of existence, plunging the group in deep, darkness. Kristo crouched down low, holding his katana. The black of night felt reassuring and welcoming for the swordsman. He could meld with the night itself and fall out of existence, returning to reality only when and where Kristo desired. Even as the others started to argue about what had just happened, the shadows pooled and condensed over Kristo, swirling around him before misting and dissipating, leaving nothingness where the swordsman had once been.

His voice spoke, however, where there was no one. "I'll be back."

From the house, Kristo shifted to the outdoors, to the gardens around the house. He slipped through the dark and shadows, moving as a passing wind and breath of God. The air carried him on the bleak, dark of night. The grounds were still, far too still, even with Kristo's concealment. Not even animals dared make a sound. A predator lurked in the woods, one other than the shadow walker.

He moved towards the breaker box, stepping out of the shadows easily, slipping into the world again from the abyss of shadow nothingness. As softly and quietly as possible, the man eased open the breaker box, aiming to just reset the main breaker. At least, Kristo would have, if he could. The main cables running into the box had been severed, violently so. Someone, in a rush, cut the power to the house, hurtling the witches into darkness.

Kristo poked at the cable with the hilt of his katana, studying it for a moment.

A rifle cracked in the distance, but it was too quick for the shadow walker to phase out of existence. The bullet slammed into Kristo's shoulder with a sickening sound, throwing the man forward. The swordsman actually felt the hot/cold metal pass through his skin and sinew and the strange suction that followed in the wake of the bullet, sucking blood and flesh up behind the bullet. His Craft reacted instinctive-ly, defensively, swallowing up the man into the shadows and out of the real world.

The abyss spanned long and vast before him.

xxxx

"Amon, how could you?"

Kathain sounded hurt and terrified, as if knowing exactly what would happen.

"Lets kill him now," Bear piped up, suggesting it sarcastically.

Nycole tried to run, but Sakaki caught her, hugging her warmly. "It's alright."

"I can hear them," the telepath whispered.

Geoff grinned at Brett, still thinking of Bear's solution to their current problems. "Y'know, no body, no crime. No crime, no murder, no problem."

Robin and Karasuma exchanged horrified glances at the thought, but Amon just stood there. He held no explanation. Kathain looked to him for answers, but Amon gave none. Instead, his face grew set and prepared, awaiting whatever grim fate the witches would eventually prescribe to him for his supposed crimes against them. Amon made no attempts to defend himself or his actions. Kathain shook her head, betrayed and saddened. Her heart couldn't bear the thought that Amon would just turn them in.

"Amon…"

Nycole looked over from Sakaki's embrace. "If we were in South Carolina, I know a field we could just dump the body in. The kudzu'd eat it in a few hours. They'd never find it."

Kathain shook her head, reaching up and gripping her hair. How could they be fighting and bickering, joking around at a time like this. Her heart ached, bruised and bludgeoned. Her time had come. The girl knew exactly what would happen, what would come to pass in just a few short hours. And despite all that, the witches continued to squabble and fight.

Amon rested a hand on each of her shoulders. "Kathain, I'm sorry."

The precog turned away. It was true. The former hunter had gone back to his old ways. He had abandoned the witches who had been kind enough to take in both the man and the teenage Craft user. They'd even been goodly enough to give lessons to Robin and Sakaki.

"Kristo could just chuck him into the abyss," Geoff teased. "They'd never find him there."

As if on cue, the shadow walker spilt out of the wall, lucky he actually phased into the room and not into the wall itself. He fell to the ground but sat up suddenly, refusing to be kept down. A hand came up to grip the gunshot wound, squeezing down to stem the flow of blood. The slug buried itself somewhere in Kristo's shoulder, just underneath his collarbone. He gritted his teeth trying not to step from the shadows, back to the real world. It took more focus and to avoid slipping back into the darkness and the safety of the night.

It was the way Kristo's Craft behaved. Whenever Kristo was truly in trouble, he seemed to fall into the shadows without any effort. His instincts took over, summoning up the darkness and drifting into it. Kristo would not; he would not leave the others. But, without his full concentration and focus, the man couldn't just take his friends into the abyss with them.

Bear ran to Kristo. Bear, the more built one of the two, held out a hand over the wound. The slug backed up, sliding out of Kristo's shoulder and falling to the floor with a metallic clink. Robin followed the sound of the rolling slug, chasing it on her hands and knees. She found it and jumped up, holding the bullet up to the light and studying it.

"A witch-killing slug…" the girl noted.

Kristo shook his head. "I've had worse."

"Amon," Robin whispered. "Amon, this is a witch-killer."

Kristo snatched the man's gas gun swiftly, moving have in and half out of the shadows, carried by them to move faster. The magazine dropped out and into the shadow walker's waiting hand. It was filled with bullets of the exact same shape and size, marked by the same etchings.

"Amon…" Robin breathed.

"Sonovabitch." The swordsman furiously clocked Amon on the side of his head, sending the hunter crashing to the ground. "We need to get out of here." Kristo turned to the others. "Down the wood path."

Karasuma knelt by Amon as Robin rushed forward, but the empath pushed her away. "No. If Solomon's closing in, you have to get out of here." Robin blinked, feeling rather like that day in the well when Amon forced her to flee Raven's Flat. "You can't let the Arcanum of the Craft fall into Solomon's hand." Robin nodded, actually understanding. "Good luck, Robin. Stay safe." Karasuma looked to Sakaki. "You, too, Haruto." Sakaki nodded. "Now, get out of here."

Brett spun around. "Go, go, go!"

They ran.

And into the night they went. Bear, Raven, Kristo, Nycole, Sakaki, Brett, Kathain, and even Robin. The house fell deadly silent, with just Karasuma and Amon occupying it and the Solomon assault team closing in.

Karasuma reached for her gas gun, readying herself.

"Make it quick."

xxxx

Mmm… you KNEW peace couldn't last that long for them.


	25. Forty Miles From the Sun

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

Voices spoke over him, distant and muffled.

"Make it quick." Karasuma!

Things were coming back together now. Once disjointed and far flung elements of the universe congealed together into one, cohesive reality.

The last Amon clearly remembered was Kristo's enraged face as the butt of the gas gun came crashing down over his temple. The swordsman had vented all of his anger and aggression in one, swift, downward strike. Amon was lucky the blow came from his own gun and not one of Kristo's blades. No, that didn't fit the shadow walker's m.o. Kristo never killed without reason, due cause. But that didn't mean the former hunter shouldn't have considered him self to be exceptionally fortunate.

Still, as the bruise bloomed on his forehead, and the world began to come into focus, Amon couldn't consider much of anything save the numbing throb just above his hairline. The hunter sat up, reaching for the tender welt.

"Amon, take it easy," Karasuma's sweet voice crooned.

Amon fought her gentle hands as he reached to get to his feet. His hands found one of the may pieces of paper, declaring mission statements and objects. "Acquire precognitive and hold in protective custody." Amon furrowed his eyebrows. They were after Kathain. This entire time, they were so interested in the hunt on Sakaki for Kathain, for an oracle.

The hunter shook his head, clearing the last of his disorientation. "Where'd they go?"

"Out, into the woods." The empath spoke sadly. Amon scrambled over the floor, taking up the discarded clip and gas gun, reloading the pistol; Karasuma trembled. "What are you doing?"

"Going after them."

Karasuma stared with wide eyes. "You can't be serious, Amon! You could have a concussion," Miho argued against the hunter, but the man refused to listen. She grabbed his arm. "Amon, there is a Solomon assault team on its way here, right now. You need to get out of here."

"Precisely what I intend to do."

xxxx

The woods were dark and scary for the first time ever in since the witches lived in Japan. The way it snaked down to the stream became like that of the serpent, twisting this way and that wildly. The twigs and brush leapt from the shadows, slashing and cutting at anyone who wasn't careful enough to jump out of the way. They disregarded it.

Kristo lead the way, followed by Brett, Robin, Bear, Sakaki, Nycole, Raven, and Geoff. Kathain trailed behind, running as fast as her legs as her legs would carry her. It wasn't fast enough. She mentally cursed all those years of skipping gym class and all those days of somehow worming her way out of exercising. Suddenly, a lifetime of laziness came back to bite Kathain in the butt.

Her eyes fell to the ground, seeing something dark and scarlet, something liquid. Kathain stopped, kneeling down and reaching for the substance. Her fingertips came up wet with it, stained red. Blood.

_He bled out. Kristo's shoulder had been worse than they thought it was. The wound had grown infected. Kristo hid it well. He had seen worse; he would see worse._

"Kristo…"

Something else sparked in her mind.

_Armed men, closing in. They were coming fast, coming specifically for her. Amon's gun pointed directly at Kathain. The hunter seemed vacant, empty, barren of all emotion._

"_Amon… please don't."_

Kathain leapt up, continuing down the wood path.

God, she felt like crying. The precognitive had dared to even think maybe, just maybe, Amon was someone who she would love and care about in the future. She had gone so far as to even make attempts, small steps, towards bringing Amon into their family, into THE family. The girl treated the former hunter well, trying her very best to be his friend, his ally, perhaps even a confidant eventually. She had allowed her good judgment to be blinded by a supposed vision. Kathain roughly wiped away her tears; it had merely been a sweetly macabre delusion of a post-teenage girl.

Still, it felt real.

It felt just as real as the uneven ground beneath her feet. Kathain poured out as much speed as she could. Her feet unsurely traversed the mellow earth.

She had to get out of there before Amon caught up with her.

xxxx

"They're coming; they're coming."

Nycole whispered the phrase with every long stride. She struggled to keep up alongside Sakaki. His longer legs stretched further, sweeping over longer distances. Still, the empath fought, knowing what lurked behind the trees.

"_Kristo, shadowmeld us,"_ Nycole ordered telepathically.

The swordsman didn't even look back, shouting loud. "I can't. I can't get all of us." He put pressure down harder on the gunshot wound, squeezing out another trickle of blood. "Not with this."

Kristo cursed the small mistake of the wound. It was a slip they couldn't afford, especially not now.

"Then, get ready."

xxxx

Kathain could hear them now.

Heavy footsteps followed behind her. There came a jingle of gear as they ran, catching up with the precognitive. She turned her head, still running forward as fast as she could but trying to catch a quick glance of whoever it was chasing them. For yes, now, there was no doubt in the precognitive's mind. Out in the woods, a Solomon assault team lurked, hunting her down, running perhaps no more than a hundred or two hundred feet behind her. They were coming, and the girl knew it. They were coming for her.

A hand shot out of the dark and grabbed her ankle. A fallen branch. Kathain tripped, screaming, landing face down in the stream. Water splashed around her. The girl coughed, spitting out a mouthful of cold spring water.

"Gotta keep moving."

The sounds of movement in the woods grew closer.

xxxx

"Kathain!"

Kristo whirled around as soon as her shrill cry pierced the night. He had promised her long ago to never let anything bad happen to the precognitive. The entire group had stopped, freezing in place.

Brett squinted in the pale moonlight, taking everything in. "Where's Kathain?"

"Kathain!" Nycole called out, searching for her friend.

The empath reached out with her mind, scanning the forest for Kathain.

_She was soaked, drenched in water. She was running, running for her life. Kathain flew through the woods. She was lost and alone. Her heart trembled. She was terrified._

"She's alright," the telepath breathed. "She's on her way."

Kristo nodded, summoning the shadows around him, pulling the darkness up from the very ground and earth. "I'll get her."

xxxx

"Kathain!"

The girl froze. Amon's voice called to her, searching for the girl over the trees. She turned and ran faster, but her soaked pants and shirt weighted the precognitive down. Kathain knew what would happen; she knew he would come after her. Kathain's heart pounded in her chest, resounding in her ears. She had to keep moving.

"Kathain!" Amon called to her again.

The girl kept running, horrified, until a root caught her foot. Again, Kathain plummeted to the ground, shrieking out as she landed with a terrible thud. Something clicked in her ear. She glanced up, staring up the long length of the barrel of a gun. The precognitive held her breath for moment when she saw Amon standing over her.

"Amon…. Please don't."

She flinched, closing her eyes and waiting for the gun to fire with a tiny puff of gas.

It never came. Amon's hand reached down and found her arm, hauling Kathain to her feet. "They want you, just you."

"What?" Kathain blinked incredulously.

"We need to hide you."

It didn't matter. Even as the words spilt from Amon's mouth, the sounds of footsteps swirled around them. The assault team had finally closed in on its prey. The fallen branch had been no accident. Kathain saw that now. They had been waiting to separate Kathain from the group, from any of the witches who could actually protect her. Now, it was but Kathain and Amon, surrounded by who knew how many Solomon agents, all protected by the power of the Orbo, glowing dimly in the trees. They were like fireflies, flitting this way and that before settling.

Kathain pressed her back close to Amon as the hunter whirled around, aiming his gas gun this and way and that, but unsure on where exactly to fire.

"Amon…" the girl breathed.

He closed his eyes. "I know."

"I'm sorry…."

xxxx

Surrounded and outnumber…. Well damn.


	26. Keeper

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

They were safe.

At least, the main group was safe. They had made it down to the second house, further away and down the stream. There, they mobilized. Sakaki found his other motorcycle, a cheaper model, unobtrusive and fast, just as the others were pulling tarps and cloths off of two other cars. The witches moved swiftly, knowing they had little time left.

Robin stared out a window of the dark, dank garage, rubbing her arms. "Where are they?"

"They're coming," Brett answered. "Kristo wouldn't leave a man behind." The fire elemental sparked a tiny flicker over his thumbs. "Even if it is that no good sonovabitch, Amon."

Sakaki touched Robin's cheek, his fingers brushing over her skin. "Go with Brett and Geoff. They'll keep you safe."

"Sakaki? What about Amon and Kathain?" the Craft user inquired.

"Trust Kristo."

Robin had never heard anything as audacious in her life. Flame flickered behind her eyes. For one whole year, she and Amon had been safe. The girl had kept a keen and vigilant watch for any sign of trouble. Together, Amon and Robin had been close, like family. They lived together, worked together, everything. It was a matter of survival. No, for Robin, it was a matter of family. The teenager couldn't leave Amon behind. Not again.

The girl barely noticed a tiny flame snap into existence on a rag, caused by her emotional fire and her Craft; Brett did. "You are definitely coming with me." He held out a hand and closed it, snuffing the flame from across the garage. "No fires."

Robin looked away, embarrassed. She had forgotten her glasses; they sat on the dining room table, in that abandoned house. Without them, who knew what her Craft would do when she used it. Her glasses gave Robin focus, clarity, and an increased accuracy on her aim. That, and they came from Amon. The girl hadn't really thought of it until that moment.

"Amon…"

Sympathy flooded through Sakaki. "Don't worry. Kristo'll get them back."

Brett didn't even spare a compassionate glance as he slid into the driver's seat of the car. "We need to, with or without them. Kristo'll catch up." He sighed. "C'mon, Robin."

Sakaki squeezed her hand and straddled his motorcycle. The other car peeled out suddenly, speeding off and carrying Bear and Raven away from the second house, into the night. The young man pulled on his helmet and offered one to Nycole; the empathy slid onto the bike behind him, holding his waist lightly.

"We'll meet up, Robin, I promise."

And, then, just as abruptly as Bear and Raven left, Sakaki and Nycole were gone.

The car behind her had already been turned over, roaring to life before the engine subsided to a mild purring. Brett eased his foot on the accelerator, feeding the machine more gas and revving the engine. He hinted to Robin more than mildly.

"I'm coming, Brett."

And, then, they, too, were gone.

xxxx

"There's no way out of here."

Kathain sounded frightened, terrified, really. Afraid of Amon, but more so of the strangers encircling them. She leaned back, trying to sink into the big man to her back. The precognitive just wanted to disappear, to vanish from this world, even if it meant death. Death would have been a far kinder fate.

_Bullets whizzed past her ears and overhead. _

"_Down!"_

A twig snapped to one side. Amon spun hard, aiming directly at the source of the sound. It didn't matter. They were outnumbered. Amon's gas gun only held what? Six bullets now that Kristo took the one out before. And the other magazines had been carelessly left at the house when Amon went barging out, into the night. Judging from the sounds of the Solomon agents approaching, there had to be at least ten or more. Amon was no witch, just a talented seed. And Kathain? She had no active powers, only sight. They were helpless.

A voice called out, gruff and authoritative, barking orders at them. "Throw the weapon down and put your hands where I can see them."

Amon closed his eyes and fired directly at the sound. An anguished cry and a heavy thud rewarded the hunter for his shot. Five bullets left, but the lead agent had been taken down. Kathain whispered a silent thank you to the hunter and his sharp hearing, but the satisfaction waned, slipping from her grasp.

She could hear the bullets, before they'd actually been fired.

"Down!"

Kathain grabbed hold of Amon's coat and tried to pull him down, yanking hard; the two threw their bodies into the dirt. At any other time, the girl would have complained about falling three times in the woods in one night, bitching about her clothes and the mud on it. No, now was different. Her body would be black and blue, sore from the landing, but they had to.

Amon came up firing and hurling his body into a sleek roll. Another body fell to the ground, but not the hunter's. He came up on bended knee, jaw clenched and firing again. Another Solomon agent went down under the marksmanship of Amon.

For the first time, ever, the man wasn't afraid to empty the rounds of witch-killing bullets. Each and every shot fired felt sweet, sending delicious recoil sweeping up his arm and through his muscles. Amon welcomed the shock waves of energy riveting up the bone, slammed by the force of the gun. The man rode the force, flowing with it in a practiced almost elegant motion.

He caught Kathain's hand and jerked her behind a tree fiercely.

"You alright?" the man shouted.

Kathain nodded, her face white as snow.

The tree bark overhead exploded in a shower of splinters. Kathain ducked low, covering her head with her hands, as if that would stop the firefight. When she had been a little girl, Kathain often dreamed of being in a gunfight, of dodging bullets with lightning speed and ducking behind a bar. Even as a child, Kathain could almost taste the sulfur and carbon from each and every shot. Her mental images had always been intoxicating, where she, the heroine, always won, taking down each and every one of the bad guys who no effort… sometimes while having a drink. At that moment, Kathain could only think bitterly of how movies had lied to her. A real gunfight was nothing like any of the Hollywood battles that so fueled her childhood imagination. Kathain almost growled bitterly.

Strange thoughts to be thinking while hiding behind a tree as a useless shield and hunkered down among dry brush for cover. If Kathain had been any other person, she might have been thinking about her life and how she'd squandered most of it playing videogames and partying with friends. She might have been praying and making peace with god. No. Kathain already knew how this battle would end, and, so, instead, the precognitive found herself mentally arguing motion picture honesty and willing suspension of disbelief.

Amon shook her fiercely. "Kathain, concentrate!"

She blinked.

_Amon. Bleeding from the head. His blood was everywhere, but mostly pouring from a gaping hole between his eyes. The entry wound of a sniper round. The image rewound, slowly, as the spray of blood and viscera returned to its source. The hole in Amon's head shrank and sealed entirely as the massive bullet, perhaps two inches long, pulled back, floating before Kathain just as the hole sealed._

_She was blinking._

_He was saying something._

_The image froze, as a movie on pause. Then, it started to move forward._

_Amon was shouting at her. "Kathain, concentrate."_

The girl shoved him hard just in time for the bullet to lodge itself deep within the tree, burying the slug in the ancient wood. Amon looked to Kathain for a millisecond before firing off a round at wherever the sniper was. It didn't matter. Someone with that powerful of a rifle didn't need to be that close, especially not in range of Amon's gas gun. They were trapped and quickly running out of bullets.

The trees became alive.

"Amon, it doesn't matter anymore. It's too late."

xxxx

"Close."

Kristo wished he'd taken Nycole into the shadows with him. It had grown harder and harder to keep in the abyss, and would have been harder with the empath in tow. He started at the house and began to move down the path.

The distant crack of a rifle report rang in his ears.

Kristo grimaced. "I know that rifle."

Somewhere, in a past life, it seeming like after all this time, Kristo had been in the military. He could tell just from the distinctive sound of the shot exactly what had fired. The shadow walker's mind began to list off details. Beretta. M501. Italian Army issue. 7.62x51mm. 5 round detachable box magazine. 586mm barrel length. Integral harmonic balancer, reducing vibrations of the barrel and improving accuracy. Inception in the mid 1980s. Known to be a fine sniper rifle, with a solid reputation. But Italian? These rifles were not, nor had they ever been available in America.

Solomon.

They were truly after the witches, and in full force.

Kristo hurried.

xxxx

"C'mon…"

Bear tapped on the steering wheel, waiting, trying to kill time and keep from going insane. He couldn't leave. Neither could Raven. Not without knowing that both Kristo and Kathain were safe, sound, and in one piece, respectively. They turned around about a mile away from the house, heading back to the garage and sitting there, engine running, lights out, waiting.

Raven let out a heaving sigh. "Face it. They're not coming back."

Bear was about to concede, to drive off to meet the others, but a tired, dejected form stumbled out from the treeline, one hand gripping his shoulder. "Kristo!" The swordsman looked up sadly when the other two burst from the bar and rushed up to him; he said not a word, allowing Bear to ask the horrible question. "Amon and Kathain?"

Kristo shook his head.

"Dead?" Raven inquired faintly, fearfully.

Rage flashed over the shadow walker's face. "Gone."

"Shit." Bear cursed harshly, cursing Solomon and the stars overhead that had allowed this to happen. "What do we do now?"

"We get out of here," Kristo snarled the words.

Raven double-took. "What?"

The injured man glared. "We leave. We make a plan. We get Kathain back. We destroy them."

"Yeah, but what about Amon?"

XXXX

Well, damn.


	27. Last Call

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

_**Epilogue**_

There were perfect days, and, then, there were PERFECT days. This was one of those days, when the sun shone brightly and warmly in the sky. The sky itself seemed to glow a radiant, azure blue, marred only by a faint sprinkling of cottony, fluffy clouds that seemed so soft and almost cuddly. The air held a gentle breeze, laden with the rich, scent of spices and cooking foods.

Nagira smiled.

This was one of those days that needed to be cherished, or wasted out in the park instead of in the office. Or especially wasted in a pochenko parlor. Nagira smirked, wondering how long he could get away with playing the fast-paced game before the office staff started looking for him. With a glance to his watch, Nagira estimated he probably didn't have enough time for even a few rounds of pochenko.

"Damn. And I was _really_ hoping to lose some money today." Nagira was apparently feeling punchy today, his mind afflicted by the pleasant day.

His secretary already seemed in a fowl mood, perhaps from being cooped up in the office all day. Her rosy lips pursed into an annoyed frown as her boss entered the room, Nagira's hands stuffed deeply in his pockets out of habit. The woman glared as she looked up from the keyboard and folded her hands across her chest impatiently. Nagira could have sworn he heard the secretary's high-heeled shoe tapping under the desk, but the man wasn't the sort of brave fool to dare her anger by finding out.

"If you're going to suddenly change your plans, you should at least have the decency to tell someone!" God, how Nagira loved to see that woman squirm as she chastised him. "I've been sitting here, trying to rearrange your schedule all morning."

He grinned from ear to ear, the very image of a Cheshire cat. "Well, then you wouldn't have any work to do, and I'd have to let you go. And that would just be a shame."

The woman's shoe clipped down on the floor sharply as she slammed her foot down. Nagira chuckled to him self at how furious the secretary had gotten, shrugging it off. He wondered what in the hell the woman spoke of but just wrote it off as his shirked of responsibilities to go wander Tokyo for a little bit, getting some fresh air. Nagira ignored it, folding his arms over his head, strolling towards his office and whistling a tune in his head. The lawyer just loved days like that.

At least, Nagira did until he opened the door to his office. In the center of the small room, stood Robin, waiting for him, surrounded by six men and one woman Nagira didn't know, in addition to a man he recognized from the STN, from when Amon had been a hunter there. Sakaki, his mind drew up the name.

"Robin?" Nagira rubbed his eyes, not entirely sure what was going on. "Robin? What's going on? Who are these people?" The man looked around to the strange faces, all unknown to him. "Who are these people?" Nagira noticed one, glaring thing missing; Amon, his own half-brother. "Where's Amon?" Robin bit her lip, as tears blurred her vision. "Robin, what's happened?" The girl just walked up and hugged the lawyer tenderly. "Robin… tell me."

"Nagira, we need a place to stay."

The lawyer nodded. "Of course."

"And we need some help," the teenager went on.

"Anything," Nagira replied. "Robin, what are you going to do?"

"Get Amon back."

xxxx

Amon and Kathain captured. Robin enraged. Help from Nagira. A desperate plan. And Kristo not at full capacity. Whelp, love and hate to leave you at a cliffhanger, but that's it, folks. You're just going to have to wait until "TATTOO YOUR SOUR" to find out what happens. Ciao!


End file.
